Embers
by AlexMontgomery
Summary: What had started as a routine mission quickly escalates into something much bigger. As another war looms on the horizon, Prince Chrom finds a great assent in the tactical genius of the young woman he found bloodstained in the field. But who could have guess that the future holds something much greater, and much more devastating, or even who is at the center of it all? Rated T
1. Chapter One

What had started as a routine mission quickly escalates into something much greater. As another war looms on the horizon, Prince Chrom finds a great assent in the tactical genius of the young woman he found bloodstained in the field. But who could have guess that the future holds something much grater, and much more devastating, or even who is at the center of it all?

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Notes: <strong>Honestly, there are two things difficult about writing this, first is how do you make the summary engaging? Second, are my battle strategies really a good idea, or are they only good ideas if everyone else is stupid? Clearly, I've made the right choice in writing for a Fire Emblem game.

So… this story will be filled with my headcanons, such as, who the hell was Robin's mother, some events in the first war, among other things. And before anyone asks, yes, I do have set parings, but they will be under wraps for the time being. Spoilers.

Anyway, let's get started.

* * *

><p>"<em>People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually - from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly… timey-wimey… stuff."<em>

_**- The Tenth Doctor, Doctor Who, 'Blink'**_

At the moment, I am very torn between wanting to scold him, and being in awe of his abilities. He very well knows that he should not be pushing himself like this, that his arm will start bothering him, and he won't be able to fight. We warned him, of course. We always warn him, every time we go out into battle. And he seldom listens. His right arm has not been the same since that night.

But, in spite of his bad arm, he always makes battle seem so easy. I do not think I will ever live long enough to equal him in that aspect; with or without his injury. I watch, with one arm wrapped around my tome, and with the opposite hand at the ready, as the blue haired man fights against the tall man with sickly grey skin. While this tall lanky man uses magic, he and the blue-haired man are just about equal in speed.

I am not sure how, but in spite of the danger, and my current conflicts, I feel so, so safe in the company of the blue haired man. Like nothing else matters anymore. I trust him; I know him so well. But I fear that he can no longer say the same about me. Because, suddenly, I don't know myself at all.

The two men continue to clash, the man in blue would go for a strike, the sickly-skinned man would strike back with dark magical energies, and the process would repeat itself. Orange-yellow sparks begin to flicker around my free hand, as I ready myself. The sickly-skinned man leaps up, levitating himself just below the banisters. His hands are held out in front of him, collecting the magical energies to strike down the man in blue. The man in blue is already dodging by the time the tall man throws down the spell.

The force of the blast throws me off my feet. I snap my tome open, careful not to lose it, then I toss my hand at the robed man. My Thoron spell sails into the air, but the man has already vanished before my spell could even hit him. I hear his half-crazed laughter.

I slide to a stop, and look back up at the blue-haired man, just as blue electricity crashes into him. I shout his name, panic begins to swell up inside me. The dust begins to settle, and the blue haired man pulls himself onto his knees. He is bruised, with thin cuts along his exposed skin. But, thankfully, he looks relatively unharmed. He uses his sword, a brilliant piece of weaponry, as support to help him onto his knees.

My heart is in my throat. I can see in his face, and in the shakiness in his arm, it's starting to hurt him, he went over his limit, just like he said he _wouldn't_ do. But, I should know better, with so much at stake now, he was not about to back down. If the situations were reversed, he knows I wouldn't either.

The buzz of electricity fills my ears, the tall, lanky man in the dark robes was preparing another spell. Cackling, the man throws the spell in the direction of the blue-haired man. "No!" I shout tossing another Thoron spell.

The two spells collide, filling the room with a bright white light. I am glaring at the tall man long before the light dies down. I have him to blame for all of our misfortunes. So much blood has been spilt, and a good portion of it is on his hands. So much of it was because of him in the first place.

But… It's on mine too. Too many failed plans, too many enemies I underestimated, too many fallen comrades. Perhaps it was better if I just disappeared. Maybe it would have been better if-

I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder. The blue-haired man is beside me, his sword still at his side, at the ready. "You're one of us," the blue haired man says. I looked at him, and there I see that unwavering conviction in his eyes. "No 'destiny' can change that."

Just like that, the rage and doubt are gone. These emotions are replaced with a light, bubbly serenity. Everything was going to be okay in the end. Everything would be all right. "Yeah," I nod.

"Why do you still resist?" the robed man shouts. "You cannot erase what has been written!"

No! He's wrong! He's wrong about everything! He's wrong about me!

I run at the heels of the blue-haired man, his sword shining brilliantly in what little light there is. The blue-haired man and the tall man suddenly go at it, not unlike they had just moments ago. I withdraw my own blade, and aim it at the robed man's neck. One way or another this was going to end today.

The tall man reaches his hand out to block my oncoming attack, just as I had hoped. I aim a Thoron spell into his side, just as the blue-haired man cuts into our opponents opposite side. The tall man pushes himself back a couple of yards away from us, black and purple flames dance around his body. The man drops onto his knees, and stays there for a moment, before he falls flat onto the floor.

The blue haired man looks back at me, and smiles. The weight is suddenly lifted off my shoulders. If only for a brief moment. It is like I was carrying a large wagon of heavy stones, and the stones just suddenly vanished.

I take a step forward, and reach out for the blue-haired man's hand. "This isn't over…" the robed man says through a ragged voice. He prompts himself up on one hand, and extends his opposite hand. He shouts, utterly enraged, _"Damn you both!"_

I do not have time to think. I just act.

My extended hand suddenly changes its course, from the blue-haired man's hand, to his chest. I put as much strength into is as I can; I shove him out of the path of the other man's spell. I catch a glimpse at the blue-haired mans face. Fear and confusion is written all over it, he just realized what is happening.

My vision goes white.

Hot pain sprouts from my chest as I fly back from the collision. And then, the pain consumes the back of my shoulders, and my back. Everything around me is fuzzy. I cannot remember what it is I am supposed to be doing. What is my goal? How do I even breathe?

The man in blue shouts my name, and with that alone, everything comes back to me. Our goals, our hopes. To breath you inhale, then exhale.

Slowly, my vision begins to clear up; the blue-haired man is running up to me. He drops down to his knees, then, by wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he helps me to sit up. "You all right?" he asked as he prompts me up. I cannot find my voice, so I nod in response. Relieved, the man looks back at the tall man in the dark robes. His body is disintegrating into a black and purple haze. "That's the end of him… thanks to you, we carry the day."

I feel the blue-haired man's grip on me change. And then comes the pain from the deepest crevices of my head. It is eating away at my mind with the sharpest teeth imaginable; I begin to see red. "We can rest easy now," the man says, helping me onto my feet. His voice sounds so distant and muffled, it's like I'm underwater. Another shot of pain erupts, ripping through my head from the inside. "At long last."

Another shot of pain comes.

Followed by another.

And another.

"What's wrong?" the man asks, reading my face. I cannot bring myself to answer, it feels like even the slightest bit of movement only makes my head pains worse. It's maddening.

I'm losing myself.

Everything I see is bathed in red.

"Hang on!" the man encourages. I vaguely feel his hand on the back of my neck. He's worried for me, but maybe he shouldn't be. "Hang on-!"

I blink, I do not understand what's happened. The man's hand has left my neck, and he takes a step back on unsteady legs. My heart drops into my stomach. His hand holds a large volt of electricity that has penetrated into him. Blood surrounds the wound, and begins to drip.

No… No… No! It's just the two of us here! Who could've-

In that moment, I'm sure I've gone pale.

Terrified, I look down at my dominate hand. Small traces of orange electricity spark across my fingers. My worst fears are confirmed. "No…" I shake my head. I feel tears beginning to swell up in the corners of my eyes. My thoughts are all over the place, I can't think straight. "No… No… No!"

I'm trying to keep it together, but I want to break, so, so much. The man takes an unsteady step towards me. His free hand caresses my cheek, and wipes the tears from my eye. "This is not your-your fault…" he chokes out. "Promise me… you'll escape from this place… Please… go…"

The light leaves his eyes as they roll back into his head. He drops to his knees, then collapses onto the floor. Blood begins to pool out onto the floor. My hands clasps over my mouth, muffling the sobs that have finally escaped.

I want to die… I want to die… Naga… Naga please… just let me die…

Cackling laughter, belonging to the sickly-skinned man, echoes in the chamber. My shoulders begin to shake, the corners of my mouth begin to tug. Lowering my hands, a low chuckle rumbles out of my mouth, it slowly builds up before I start laughing along side the disemboweled voice.

Everything around me, and everything inside me, is finally lost.

* * *

><p><strong>Embers<br>****Chapter One  
><strong>**The Verge of History**

* * *

><p>If there was one thing about today he could just forget ever happened, this really would have been nice. If he could ignore the battles he had just fought, and the tragedy that befell one soul, this, right now, would have been a nice change of pace. Just taking a nice walk, to feel the wind on his face, and just breathe in the fresh sent of grass. If everyday could be like this moment, right now, Chrom would have been more than willing to put up with Lissa's complaining. "Well, I'm sorry!" his younger sister, Lissa said. She threw down her hands in exasperation. "I am so, so sorry if I don't understand why we ever bothered to bring a horse along, if we don't even ride her!"<p>

"A little walking builds character, milady," Fredrick replied with a chuckle.

The brown haired man in a full suit of armor followed the brother-sister duo at a reasonably safe distance. Or, at least Fredrick's definition of 'reasonably safe,' so he was probably less than three meters away, as he lead his mare by the reigns.

Lissa, a blonde girl with green eyes, stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, and blew a raspberry. She had just turned sixteen a few short weeks ago, but she still had the tendencies of a nine-year-old at times. "If I wanted character building," retorted Lissa. "I would have stayed at home and trained with Sully."

"Believe me, I would have preferred it that way," Fredrick muttered under his breath. It would have given him one less thing to worry about if Lissa had stayed behind.

"What was that?" asked Lissa.

"Nothing, milady."

"Fredrick is right, Lissa," Chrom said, turning to his sister. "A little walking is good for you."

Lissa's brother Chrom had a muscular built to him, with shaggy blue hair. He was a young man with his twentieth year fast approaching.

Lissa let out a slight sigh. She pouted, then crossed her arms over her chest. She knew her big brother was right, of course. Fredrick's mare was already carrying her staff, and the medical supplies they brought in case the village they just visited needed them. Any more weight on her and the mare would tire out. But if Lissa had to walk much more, she was sure her legs would pop off. "You knew it would be like this when you became a Shepherd, milady," Fredrick was quick to point out.

"I know," the blonde mumbled. "I also knew it would give you one more excuse to worry about every little thing, Sir Allow-Me-to-Clear-Every-Tiny-Little-Pebble-and-Stick-So-You-Don't-Trip!"

"Milady!" Fredrick chided.

"She has a point, Fredrick," chuckled Chrom.

He allowed his eyes to wander off to the field just off the dirt path. The three of them had just fought off bandits that had been terrorizing a small village throughout the night. They rescued the village, but sadly, there was _one_ death, and a few injured from the traveling caravan who had warned the villagers. They told Chrom and the other's that they would give their fallen comrade a proper burial, and tried to assure him that she died without regrets. But she shouldn't have had to die.

Forcing the memories away, Chrom took in the scenery. The wind billowed through the grass, making the field look like waves were crashing into one another. His gaze followed the 'waves,' until Chrom spotted something truly unexpected; a human figure, a woman going by her long hair, lied motionless on the ground.

With a sharp inhale Chrom tore off the path, hurrying to the fallen woman. Lissa called his name before she chased after him with a bottle of vulnerary in her hands. Fredrick, on the other hand, had called for them both. His pleas may as well have fallen upon death ears, as neither sibling responded.

When Chrom reached the woman's side, he dropped onto one knee, then lowered himself down so that his face was in front of hers. Her warm breath met with his skin in steady beats. On the woman's opposite side Lissa dropped to her knees, and began to inspect her. "She's still alive," Chrom said, standing back up.

"Not for a lack of trying…" said Lissa. She gingerly moved the flap over thick coat to the side.

Chrom saw what Lissa had meant.

She was a young woman, about eighteen, maybe nineteen. She lied on her side, her hands close to her face; dried blood coated her fingers. There were blood stains on her clothes, from her coat, her clothes underneath, and some smeared on her neck and cheek.

Her long hair was fanned out around her head, a color that could be called dark-grey. But there wasn't much else about her to describe at the moment. With her eyes closed, head slightly tilted to the side, and the calm expression on her face, she looked like she could have been sleeping. But her current state suggested otherwise. "Plegian robes," Fredrick said from behind the two. Chrom looked over his shoulder to find a hardened expression on Fredrick's face. "We must leave. Now. This could be a trap set up by Plegians."

Lissa peered up at him over her shoulder, clearly unimpressed by his accusation. "Honestly!" she huffed. "Do you really believe they would be this obvious."

"Milady," Fredrick said, with a hint of exasperation. "You see that coat-"

"I see it," Lissa interrupted. "But that's all it is. Clothes do not mean anything."

"And the mark on her hand?" Fredrick countered. "Does that not mean anything either."

Had Fredrick not said anything, Chrom would have missed it himself. With the woman as alarmingly bloody as she was, the mark Fredrick had mentioned would have been easy to miss. But now that Chrom had seen it, he couldn't tear his eyes from it. There it was, the light purple mark on the back of the woman's right hand. It was not something one would see in Ylisse, but Chrom knew full well what it was; the Mark of Grima. The sigil of the fell dragon, and the mark of the Grimleal.

Lissa bit her lower lip, momentarily. "It doesn't mean anything," Lissa said, standing firm with her resolve.

"Milady, it's a blindingly obvious sign that she is one of the Grimleal," said Fredrick.

"And? We cannot hold it against someone for the basic right to choose their religion."

"Even when they come from the country that's been terrorizing our borders? Who's to say she hasn't? Look at the blood on her clothes, milady."

"But it's smeared!" Lissa argued. "For all we know she could have been trying to save someone."

"I think we can both agree it's long dried," Fredrick pointed out. "So it _could_ have been splattered."

"Then why is she passed out on the ground here?"

"It is as I said, a Plegian tra-"

"Then why isn't she awake now? I'm sure they wouldn't keep us waiting."

"Now hold on," Chrom spoke up, raising one hand to silence the two. His gaze was held upon Lissa. "Now, I'm just as willing to hear this woman out, but I do agree that we should approach this with caution." He then turned to Fredrick. "And what if Lissa is right? For all we know, someone was in trouble, and this woman was trying to find them help."

"Chrom," said Lissa. She stood up, her gaze held upon the woman, then up at her brother. "We have to do _something_."

"What do you propose we do?"

"Uh… I don't know…"

"Ung…"

The siblings turned their attention back to the woman; she sat up, her eyes fluttering open to reveal a set of red irises. She blinked a couple of times, and shook her head to remove the dreariness. "Hey there," Lissa said to the woman with a kind, warm smile.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," Chrom said, hoping to put the woman at ease. He extended his hand to her. "Give me your hand."

Hesitantly, the woman slid her right hand, the very hand with the mark, into Chrom's. He pulled the woman onto her feet, and she swayed slightly, still in a daze. "Easy," Chrom said gently. He placed his free hand on her shoulder to help her steady. "You all right?"

Blinking once more the woman shook her head, she took a step back; studying both Chrom and Lissa. The woman stood a full head shorter than Chrom, and her hair fell to her mid-back. She looked confused, but otherwise remained calm. "Yes…" she said, her voice, while pleasant and smooth, was hoarse. The woman cleared her throat. "Thank you, Chrom."

"So you know me then."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she thought. Her brow furrowed, she was still confused, if not even more so. It was like the woman was trying to grasp at something right in front of her, but her hands just slipped right through them. "No…" she shook her head. "I'm sorry… I don't know why I linked that name with you… It just… came to me…?"

So it was highly possible that she was not Ylissean, if her wardrobe and the mark did not already suggest such a thing. The woman looked down at her hands, surprised by the blood coated on them. With a glint of fear in her eyes, she looked more like a frightened child than a young woman.

"I see…" Chrom said thoughtfully. That was odd, but there were other things to worry about at the moment. "Might I ask for your name, then?"

"Y-Yes of course," said the woman. She lowered her arms, hiding her hands with the long sleeves of her coat. "I'm… uh…"

She was silent for a few more seconds before her fist balled up in front of her mouth. The blood on her hand that had once frightened her was now no longer a concern. Her eyes were wide; she was desperately searching for something. _Anything. _But there was nothing for her to grasp. "You don't know your name?" Chrom asked, furrowing his brow.

The woman seemed to shrink. It was the one question anyone should have been able to answer, but she couldn't. The woman looked so lost and helpless, Chrom's sympathies went out to her. "But it's your own name," Lissa gasped, green eyes widening. "Everyone has one, right?"

"Where am I exactly?" the woman asked. "Nothing feels familiar."

"Oh! It's probably amnesia!" Lissa said in a hushed tone, as though the woman couldn't hear her. Odds were, she could. "Maybe she fell off her horse."

"Or it's a load of Pegasus dung," Fredrick announced. He held a hard glare. "You mean to tell me this woman remembers milords name, but not her own."

"I know how this looks," the woman said. She swayed from left to right. "But I promise, I'm not lying."

"Forgive me, ma'am, if I find your words ring hollow," Fredrick said. His cold gaze held upon the woman, but his words were firm and fair. "Your whole situation, and the way you present yourself reeks of suspicion."

"Fredrick!" Lissa snapped.

"Milady, please take a step back and think about all of this," Fredrick said. He gestured to the woman. "We find an unknown, blood stained woman in Plegian garb, with the Grimleal's emblem on her hand, she claims to know milord's name, but not her own? I'm afraid we cannot simply ignore this."

"And if it's true Fredrick?" Chrom countered. "We cannot leave her alone and confused. What kind of Shepherds would we be otherwise?"

Fredrick quickly glanced back at the woman. She was biting the inside of her cheek, and her brow was furrowed. "All the same, milord," he said. "We must emphasize caution."

Chrom turned his attention back to the woman. She was trying to rub the blood off her hands, completely unaware that part of her face was coated in it. She did not pay the mark on her hand any mind, completely unaware of what it meant, or the significance behind her robes. "We'll sort this out when we get to Southtown," he decided. "It's not that far from here."

The womans eyes snapped open. "Wait a moment," she said, dropping her hands at her sides. "Don't I have a say in all this?"

"Peace, friend," Chrom said with a slight chuckle. "I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town."

The woman was hesitant as Fredrick lead the others back down the road. Perhaps she should run, perhaps they had wicked things planed for her. Or maybe they could help her, maybe she could find her family in Southtown. What could she really do if she did not go with them.

In the end, the woman followed them. She tried to make herself small, to make herself invisible as she pondered her fate. What would she do if she could not remember herself? She could not expect these strangers to care for her, assuming they did not have anything horrid in store for her. But what if they did? What if they planed on selling her to a brothel? Oh, gods what was to become of her?

"What will you do with me?" the woman asked, stopping in her tracks. "A-Am I to be your prisoner?"

Chrom chuckled at this, prompting a blush on the woman's cheeks. "You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse," he explained.

"Is that where we are?"

"Yes. This land is known as the Haildom of Ylisse. Our rulers is the Exalt, Emmeryn," said Chrom. "Is none of this familiar?"

The woman shook her head. "Well, don't push it," Lissa advised. "I'm sure it'll come to you in time."

The woman bit her inner cheek and nodded. As far as Chrom could tell, she did not seem to be that convinced. He decided that it was understandable. This whole experience had to be overwhelming. Chrom could not begin to imagine what was going through the woman's head that very moment.

For all any of them knew, she was doing all she could to avoid breaking down.

"I suppose proper introductions are in order," said Chrom. "My name is Chrom - but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

"I am _not_ delicate!" Lissa snapped, pounding her older brother on the arm with her fists. When she was finished, she shoved him aside. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick at times."

"And the perpetually paranoid one is Fredrick the Wary," Chrom continued.

"A title I shall wear with pride," Fredrick replied with a fake smile. "Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution." He turned to face the woman with a calmer expression compared to the judgmental one he wore earlier. "I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

The woman nodded. "I understand, sir," she said. "I would do no less in your position." The woman paused; she blinked. "Anali."

"Beg pardon?" Chrom asked, studying the woman.

"My name," the woman said with a smile that was beginning to brighten by the second. "It's Anali. So strange, it just came to me."

"Anali…" Chrom repeated, gripping his chin. "Sounds foreign."

"Oh! Maybe you're from Valm!" Lissa suggested.

"Milord!" Fredrick exclaimed.

Chrom and Lissa turned to the direction of Southtown. A tall pillar of black smoke billowed out from the town. The scent of burnt wood was carried by the wind with the cries from the village. "Damn it!" Chrom shot out. "Brigands, no doubt. Fredrick, Lissa, quick!"

"What about her?" Fredrick asked, gesturing to Anali.

"Unless she's on fire, she can wait!"

"Aptly put, milord."

Lissa hurried to Fredrick's mare and pulled out her staff from the saddle bag. Fredrick mounted the mare before he pulled the blonde girl up behind him. The mare off into a gallop with Chrom already ahead of them.

"B-But…" Anali said wearily. She held her hand out in a futile attempt to stop them. But they were already gone.

The town was in shambles. Homes and shops were either on fire, or torn to bits, civilians blocked their doors, and brigands pillaged anyone they could. A few of Southtown's men had already taken up arms in retaliation, with varying degrees of success.

A woman knelt on the ground, holding her husband close to her. The fool tried to fight back against one of the bandits, but he was quickly, and brutally struck down. Now, cradling him close to her, the woman was not sure if she should be praising him for bravery, or condemning him for sheer foolishness. She felt a strong, rough hand grab her from the back of her shirt collar, another hand forced her husband out of her arms.

The bandit dragged her back with one arm around her waist. The woman cried out, nearly hysteric as she reached her hands out for the dying man on the ground. She knew full well what her fate had for her now, but could this man not wait until her husband was gone? Give her that at least. He needed someone with him, he needed her with him. _She needed _to be with him!

Blood suddenly splattered onto the woman's back; she froze, stunned. The bandit's grip on her lessened, and he fell over. Surprised, the woman looked over her shoulder to find Chrom sliding his blade, the Falchion, back onto it's sheath. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," the woman breathed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Thank you, milord."

Lissa knelt down beside the woman's husband, muttering something under her breath. She tore her eyes off the man, and looked up at his wife. "Your husband will be fine," she said. "Can you please spread the word that I'm caring for the wounded, and that I will need as much help as possible."

The woman nodded and went into the nearest shop that had yet to be plundered. "I've got things taken care of here, Chrom," Lissa said, looking up from the man. "Be careful."

He gave her a curt nod. "You too."

Chrom did what he could to get civilians out of their burning homes. Some, namely those who lived on higher floors, tended to be trapped by burning debris. With help from the men of the house, they were able to get their loved ones out safely.

The blue haired man guided the old woman into the arms of her son. The poor woman was stuck upstairs as the home burned away. Her young grandsons sobbed into the hem of her skirt, the whole experience must have been terrible for them, with or without the risk of their grandmother dying horribly. The woman ignored the burns to her hands and hugged the children close to her, whispering comforting words into their ears.

The family slowly filed away, the father carrying his two boys, while his wife lead the old woman by the hand. The heart of the town was near-disserted, save from a few of the bandits, pillaging homes, and taking what they could.

He felt something barrel into him, knocking him off his feet. After landing on the ground, Chrom looked over his shoulder, intending to strike his attacker. However, the 'attacker' was Anali. She was panting with sweat beading down her brow. She had herself prompt up with one arm, she was holding something close to her chest with her other hand. Was that a tome?

A metallic clang echoed when the axe hurtled at him landed on the ground. Chrom would have been it's target had Anali not acted. The woman tossed herself up onto her knees and opened her tome. She threw her free hand forward, in the direction of the axe-wielding brigand. Orange-yellow ruins circled around her hand, and volts of electricity struck the man, hurtling him onto the ground.

Anali snapped her tome closed, she glanced at Chrom. "Sorry," she said, still trying to catch her breath. "There wasn't really any time for tact."

"Well, given what could have been, I won't complain much," Chrom said, getting back up. Helping Anali onto her feet, he eyed the yellow book she held close to her chest. "You can use magic?"

"Apparently," said Anali. She lifted her cloak, revealing a sword and money pouch secured at her side. "Guess this thing has a few surprises in it."

Chrom grinned; he was almost tempted to correct Anali, It certainly wasn't her cloak that had a few surprises in it. Instead, he grabbed Anali by the arm, and pulled her into his chest. She was about to shout harsh words at him, until Chrom held his sword out in front of them, protecting them bow from a swordsman's attack.

The sword reflected off Falchion, and Chrom immediately sprinted to the brigand, Anali followed close behind, still clutching onto her tome. The blue-haired man slashed his sword against the ruffian who was then blown back by Anali's Thunder spell. "They're not that strong," Anali said, snapping her tome closed. "Their armor is fairly weak, so, really, they should go down with one good hit in the back or mid-section."

Furrowing his brow, Chrom looked straight at Anali. "You got all that with one look?" he asked her.

The dark haired woman shrugged. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me, it isn't."

Anali hugged her tome close to her with both arms around it. She did not quite understand why Chrom was so intrigued by this information. It was not as though Anali did something that was _so _spectacular. Anyone could have figured it out.

It was just as Anali had said. These bandits were not well armed, nor did they have the strength to match Chrom and Fredrick's. What's more is that there were so few of them. Had they started out as such, or did the villagers actually succeed in slaying a few?

The pair found Fredrick, who had successfully struck down several bandits with a swift movement from his lance. Chrom explained Anali's observation to Fredrick, but he seemed hesitant to take any advice from her. She understood why he was a little hostile towards her, but now was not the time to argue her case. "These guys seem to be armatures," Anali said, opening her tome. "If we can find the leader, and take him out, the others will probably surrender or flea for their lives. But with that said, I'd be willing to bet that their leader is the strongest."

Chrom crossed his arms over his chest. That did make a little sense, if they were really as weak as Anali said, then they probably were not that experienced. And, with that in mind, it would be safe to say that their leader was the only contender amongst these men. The problem was that he was most likely hiding behind his men. Cowardice, no doubt

The three of them continued through the town, cutting down bandits who attacked, dwindling their numbers. The deeper they got into the town, the less bandits they came across. Until they got to the church courtyard.

Sure enough, the bands leader had set up a sort of base there. And, sure enough, hid behind his men. The townsmen fought against them as best as they could, but they were inexperienced, they were struck down like tall grass in the way.

The man Anali had to presume was their leader did have a muscular built to him, with a large axe in his possession. There were three other's in his band, two carrying axes, and one wielding a like green tome. Anali motioned at herself and Chrom, then at the three mooks. She gestured at the band leader, then to Fredrick, asking him if he could handle the guy. When both Fredrick and Chrom gave Anali a sign of approval the dark haired woman tried to motion for them to hit them all at once. But her way to convey this was to have the tips of her fingers meet with the open palm on her opposite hand. This looked more like a wave crashing into shore.

Seeing the men's confusion Anali mouthed slowly, _'All at once.' _She pointed at Fredrick, then held up five fingers. _'Give us five seconds.'_

Taking in a deep breath, Anali opened her tome, balancing it in one hand. She followed close behind Chrom as they ran out into the open. He clashed blades with one of the brutes. The second axe-wielding man swung at Chrom, he was blown to the side by Anali's Thunder spell. She, herself, was suddenly blown off her feet. The bandit's mage had cast a Wind spell.

A shrill whinny echoed as Fredrick road out into the open on his mare. The leader started shouting for his subordinates to counter attack, _now_. The bandit's mage snapped open his tome. Gritting her teeth, Anali quickly got onto her knees and hugged her open tome close to her. Electricity formed in her free hand; she got onto her feet and stepped forward, driving the volt into the mage's side. The man gasped before he fell to the ground, bleeding out in front of her.

Chrom fought off against the axe-welding mook with fluid movements, let it be blocking with his blade, or dodging the swinging axe. However, with both of them attacking him at once, it was difficult for Chrom to land a blow on either of them. Quickly, Anali grabbed the fallen mage's Wind tome, and opened it. The orange ruins circled around her hand as the spell knocked the ruffian off his feet, and his axe a few yards away from him.

Quickly, Chrom slashed the man in the side, he cried out as blood seeped out of the fresh wound. The man was about to shout curses at Chrom, before he drove the blade into the mans abdomen. The mans eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped over.

"Damn you!" the remaining bandit shouted. He got onto his knees and reached for his axe, but he would never grab it.

Chrom drove his sword into the man. Pulling it back out, the man collapsed. One left. A cry caught both of their attentions, Fredrick had drove his lance all the way through the leader's chest. Readjusting his grip on the weapon, Fredrick pulled it out effortlessly. The leader dropped dead. It was over.

The town was safe.

The fires across town were successfully put out. Some of the homes and shops were saved with minor damage, but others were not so fortunate. The townsfolk had already gotten together, devising restoration plans. The injured were cared for by a medic team lead by Lissa. She all but demanded to know what happened, and when Anali had showed up. "Wow, Anali!" Lissa gushed when Chrom had finished recounting events. "Sounds like you were really on top of things."

"You're certainly no helpless victim," Chrom agreed. "That much is for sure. The Shepherds could use someone like you."

"Oh, yeah!" Lissa agreed. "Anali would fit in perfectly!"

"Wait…" the woman said weakly. "Don't I get a say in this?"

The siblings simply stared at her. Had she just said something wrong? Had she insulted them? "Of course you do," Chrom said kindly. "It's not forced upon you. But, the Shepherds would welcome someone of your tactical talents."

Anali cocked a brow in confusion. All three of them, Chrom, Fredrick, Lissa, had mentioned the 'Shepherds' several times. But the first thing that Anali imagined was, of course, the three of them herding sheep. However, she realized fairly quick that that wasn't what Chrom and the others did. The armor and weapons sort of tipped her off. But Anali had come to the conclusion that they were something like the local authorities, or at least something akin to that.

With that in mind, Anali started second, third, and fourth guessing the offer. How could she, with no past, and no idea of where she was or what was going on, fit in with this group? Realizing this, Anali rubbed one arm. "I don't know…"

"I don't need an answer right away, but I would like one," Chrom said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But I do believe we could all benefit from your abilities.

"Milord," Fredrick said, dismounting his horse. "Did you notice? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent."

"Plegian?" Anali repeated. That was the second word that kept popping up that day. "What's that?"

Fredrick peered at Anali; she felt like he was trying to bear a hole right through her chest with one glare alone. As though she would crack and spill her guts under enough pressure. "Plegia is Ylisse's western neighbor," Chrom explained. "They send small bands into out territory, hoping to instigate war."

"And it's the poor townsfolk who suffer most from it," Lissa said, hugging herself.

Casting her eyes downward, Anali peered at the mark on the back of her hand; the mark Fredrick identified as Plegian. "And you believe I could have been one of these instigators," she said, eyeing Fredrick.

"It is nothing against you personally," said Fredrick. He outstretched one arm, gesturing to Southtown. "But you've seen the damage they are capable of."

Anali just nodded. "Your skepticism is understandable, and justified."

She knew full well that her story was ridiculous. Anali knew how this must have looked from an outsiders perspective. Of course anyone dressed in a foreign garb, and a mark on her hand would be deemed suspicious. Who in there right mind wouldn't find it all odd? "But I promise," Anali looked back up. "None of this holds any resonance with me."

"Fredrick, she fought to save Ylissean lives," Chrom said, keeping his sight on the brown haired man. "And may have very well saved mine. My heart says that's enough."

"And your mind, milord?" Fredrick countered. "Will you not heed it's counsel as well?"

"Anali is able to size up enemies with one look, and she came up with the plan that won us the day, we could use someone of her talents. And I believe her story, as odd as it might be."

"As do I!" Lissa spoke up. "Fredrick, Anali had plenty of opportunities, and the skill to have done something by now if she was against us."

"All the same," sighed Fredrick. "I would prefer to approach this with caution."

Anali bit the inside of her cheek, she felt little disheartened. She utterly loathed her situation, and really began to wonder if joining the Shepherds really would be good for all involve. While Fredrick had not been violent towards her for her possible origins, there was no guarantee everyone would be like that. Someone could take one look at the mark and turn violent on her. The last thing Anali wanted was the cause problems for the kind people who found her.

The restorations took up what was left of the day. Anali did what she could to help rebuild, but it was pretty clear that it would take a few days, or even a few more weeks to fully complete the restoration. Her hands felt sore and tender after clearing sites, lugging timber around, and holding beams into place. All the while, she thought about Chrom's offer while she worked, and how joining the Shepherds could be beneficial.

Anali had a fairly decent idea of what they did, so she knew it would have been a noble cause, if nothing else. On one hand, Anali could see more of the country, so maybe she might have had a better chance at finding someone who knew her before all of this. And perhaps it could give her a roof over her head while she figured herself out.

When things calmed down a bit, Anali looked through everything on her person. There was a large pocket inside her cloak that carried her Thunder tome. That was good to know. She had on a belt that carried a bronze sword in it's sheath. A sword Anali was fairly certain she had no idea how to use, even before she lost her memory. With the tome using magic just sort of came to her. One look at the sword… and Anali got nothing like that. She did not even know how to hold it properly, let alone how to use it. And on the opposite side of her sword, was a pouch with a single golden sun, fifteen silver moons, and two copper stars.

There was very little on her to tell Anali just who she was before she woke up. From these items alone, Anali could tell that she had some skill in magic, carried a sword but didn't know how to use it, and perhaps liked to read. It made Anali sound like she was a traveler of sorts, or maybe even a nomad, but a very ill-prepared one.

No memories of herself; all the reason in the world for distrust; Chrom's offer. It was really beginning to become difficult for Anali to think straight.

With her back leaned against the wall of an unharmed building, Anali ran her hands through her hair. The blood was beginning to rub off, though there was still plenty under her fingernails. She just did not know what to do. "I hope you've been thinking about my offer," Chrom walked up to her. He leaned his back against the wall beside Anali.

Sighing, the woman pushed her bangs back. She could feel the ash and grease clinging to her roots. "I keep going in circles," she admitted.

"As I've said before, I won't force you into anything," he assured her.

"I know… But will everyone really be okay with _this_?" Anali asked, gesturing to herself. "Will everyone, in the Shepherds, out of it, be okay with a woman who's most likely Plegian amongst their numbers? Someone who's most likely from the same country trying to start a war?"

Chrom looked away from the woman he had found just a few hours ago. Of course, it would be wishful thinking to believe that no one would have a problem with this. There would be civilians who would have a problem, and it was possible that some of the Shepherds would have to warm up to the idea.

"Anali," Chrom said calmly. "I'd be lying if I said that no one would object to it. There would be problems. But I do believe that if we want peace between our two countries, someone needs to take the first step, no matter how small."

"I'll… I'll take that into consideration…"

Chrom sighed. In the end it was her decision. "Come on," he clapped her on the shoulder. "We're about to head off."

"Where are we going?" asked Anali.

"Ylisstol," Chrom explained. "The capital city."

* * *

><p>Night had fallen before they ever made it <em>to<em> Ylisstol, much to Lissa's dismay. While the innkeeper in Southtown offered them stay for the night, Chrom and Fredrick declined. Lissa complained, pointing out that it would be dark soon. And, of course, she was right. "Told you!" Lissa complained loudly, swatting at bugs. "It's already dark. I can hardly see two inches in front of my nose. And the bugs are already out!"

"It's not that bad," Anali said, swatting a few bugs away from her face with a sour expression.

"'Not that bad?'" Lissa repeated, she begin thrashing about, her arms held close to her chest. "The disgusting, noisy bugs that buzz around, crawl all over, and bite are 'not that bad?' Eh! No thank you!"

"Come on now, Lissa," Chrom chided playfully. "Hardship builds character."

"Yeah, well between this and walking earlier I think I've built up _quite_ enough character for one day."

A loud gurgling sound rumbled from Anali's belly. All eyes turned her; the woman's expression dropped as a blush appeared on her face. Giggling weakly, Anali placed one hand on her stomach, trying, and failing to silence it. Embarrassed, she rubbed the back of her neck with the other hand. "I suppose some hunting and gathering is in order," Fredrick teased with a smirk. He peered back at the group a hand. "Now, who wants to clear the campsite?"

Lissa puffed her cheeks and pouted. "Come on, Lissa," Anali said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll help clear the campsite out."

"Fine…" moaned Lissa.

Fredrick marked the campsite, and the girls cleared out the area while Fredrick hunted, and Chrom got firewood. Anali mostly followed Lissa's instructions as she really didn't know what she was doing. It told Anali that she had probably never been camping before.

They both had to cringe when Fredrick returned with a couple of dead rabbits, though Anali found it in her to just grin in bare it. She helped Chrom skin the animals while Fredrick made the fire. Anali lost track of the skins, though she assumed either Chrom or Fredrick had them stowed away somewhere. They were in pretty good condition and could have made a fine pillow.

The roar of the fire and scent of cooking meat was enough to drive Anali crazy with hunger. "Is it a wise idea to have a fire going like this while it's dark out?" she asked. "It seems like an open invitation for bandits or wild animals."

"You say that after seeing how we handled brigand's in Southtown?" Chrom countered. "I would think it's safe to assume we'll be fine."

Anali's head bobbed from left to right, an odd nod of agreement. Another growl rumbled from her stomach.

Her mouth was watering something fierce by the time the meat was deemed edible. Anali may as well have been replaced with a fierce predator once she sunk her teeth into it. Chrom tore off a bit of rabbit for himself, when he looked up at Lissa. His sister had hardly touched her helping. "What's wrong, Lissa?" he asked. "Dig in."

"Think I'll pass," said Lissa. She peered over at Fredrick, who had hardly eaten anything either. "Couldn't you have speared us something people normally eat for once? I can't eat something so cute and soft, I just want to cuddle it! Isn't that right, Anali?"

No response. "Anali?"

There where a few grunts and slurps coming from Anali who devoured her meat with vigor. Her face suddenly paled, her eyes widened as she started to beat her fist against her chest. Chrom almost reached out for Anali when she started to take a few deep breaths in. She caught her breath, and looked up at the three with a sheepish grin.

Lissa sighed. "I guess a person would enjoy just about anything after not eating for days…"

"Just eat it, Lissa," said Chrom. "Meat is meat."

"How could you make me eat something as cute as a bunny?!" the blonde girl exclaimed.

"Every experience makes us stronger, milady," chided Fredrick. "Even those we don't enjoy."

"Really?" Lissa countered with a raised eyebrow. "Is that why I don't see _you_ eating it, Fredrick?"

"I had a large lunch, milady," Fredrick replied coolly.

"Yeah right!"

"Fine," sighed Chrom. He waved his hand once. "Go without anything tonight. Just don't complain about an empty stomach in the morning."

"Fine by me," Lissa said, folding her hands into her lap. A sickening gurgle came from Anali's belly. The woman held her stomach, fighting the urge to throw up. "But, from where I stand, it's not my stomach you should be worrying about in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> W00T!

Okay, before we end here, I'd like for everyone to know, that I've got a writing blog on Tumblr, where I will be more than willing to answer any question (provided there's no risk of spoilers) there regarding any of my fan fictions (I'm hoping to have a second new story up within a few days to a few weeks). The URL is _sammiewritesstuff_, there's a link on my homepage. When I've got thing's organized there, you will eventually find a few tidbits, headcanons, and other goodies, so, feel free to drop by. And yes, you can ask anonymously.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two  
><strong>**An Unwelcome Change**

Anali's eyes snapped open as the ground beneath her began to rumble furiously. If it wasn't the tremor that woke her, it certainly would have been the shrill cries from Fredrick's horse. Fredrick was already up, and trying to calm the beast down. But, there was no sign of either Chrom or Lissa. "They couldn't have gotten far," she heard Fredrick mutter to himself. He mounted the mare. "Get on."

She wasn't sure why, but Anali panicked at the thought of riding a horse. They were powerful creatures, she knew that, so perhaps that was why she was a little intimidated by this one mare. "You go on ahead," Anali said weakly. "I'll catch up."

"Not in all of this," Fredrick said, pulling Anali onto the mare behind him. "We're better off sticking together."

Anali yelped when the mare took off into a full gallop, her heart pounded in her chest, and cold sweat beading on her brow. She was apprehensive; there was a ferocious earthquake, she was on horseback, and Chrom and Lissa were missing. How could she not be afraid at the moment?

The horse skirted to a stop as a wave of molten lava rose into the air, balls of fire rained down upon the forest. Tree leaves and bristles caught fire and the blaze quickly spread before they knew it. Fredrick urged his horse to take a left. The mare barreled through the forest until they came to a very steep ledge. With wide eyes, Anali looked from the ledge, then to Fredrick. She knew just what he was planning. "We're not actually going to-?!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Fredrick asked without looking at her. "Believe me, I would love to hear one."

Anali bit her lower lip. No, no, she did not have a better idea. It was either this, or burn up with the forest. Seeing this, the mare took off again; she leapt off the ledge. Anali's grip on Fredrick tightened as they slid downhill. Coming to even ground, the horse trotted off until Fredrick pulled back on the reigns and came to a complete stop.

"Is she okay?" Anali asked. She could feel her hands shaking, but she could not tell you if it was because of her nerves, or because of her grip on Fredrick.

"Not to worry," said Fredrick. He petted his mare on the neck. Had the situation not have been dire, it would have almost been boastful. "It will take a bit more than that to get Hermia down."

They continued down the path. They sky was filled with smoke and embers, like the burning forest spread to the sky above them. A bright, white light shown through the trees. Fredrick instructed the horse in the direction of the light. It really was not much to go by, after all there was no guarantee that Lissa and Chrom would be there. But it was the only lead they had.

They came to a clearing where Lissa and Chrom stood with a figure in blue. They were surrounded by soldiers, grotesque and awkwardly moving. They reminded Anali of a rotting corpse. "Milord! Milady!" Fredrick exclaimed, urging his horse to a stop. Anali was the first of the pair to dismount, she nearly fell flat on her face in the process. "Are you hurt?"

"Fredrick! Anali!" Lissa breathed out. She reached out and grabbed Anali by the forearms, and leaned in slightly so that Anali had to keep her from falling over. But the blonde was wide-eyed, and clearly shaking, Anali had to wonder what happened on their end.

Anali's eyes were locked on the corpse-like creatures. They looked like any armed solider, if those soldiers had pasty, dark grey skin. The soldier's moved so unnaturally it would have been a wonder if there were any bones in their bodies. Strained cries emerged from their throats; they sounded more animal, than human, as a black haze emitted from their mouths. "These creatures wouldn't be commonplace in Ylisse, would they?" asked Anali with a weak grin.

"No, they're not," Chrom replied, tightening his grip on his blade. "I can promise you that."

"So no one is injured?" Fredrick asked when his first question was unanswered. "Thank the gods…"

"Thank the masked boy who saved me," Lissa corrected. She pulled away from Anali, her usual bravado was back once more. Was that a good thing? "If it wasn't for him I'd be…"

Lissa's voice trailed off. She scanned the area, but the boy with the mask wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Where'd he go?" the blonde girl asked disappointed.

"We can worry about him later," Fredrick said, his eyes focused on the corpse-like creatures. "After we put these… _things_ to the blade. Eyes open, we know nothing about this enemy."

"Which mean's we'll want Lissa close by," Anali said, removing her sword from its sheath. It felt heavy and awkward in her hand. "They look stronger, and better armed than the brigand's in Southtown so it'll take more than a good hit. Maybe."

"So, basically," Chrom said, removing his own sword from its sheath. "Don't push your luck if you've been hit."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Fredrick and Hermia were the first to make a move towards one of the living corpses. His lance cut through it's body like a hot knife through butter. While the two exchanged blows Chrom and Anali broke apart from their little group. Anali, still having no idea what to do with her sword, just swung her sword at one of the corpse-like beings like the village idiot with a stick. She only managed to knick the thing in the arm before it swung it's axe at her.

Anali narrowly dodged the axe enough so that it just grazed her sleeve. Then, without thinking it through, Anali plunged her sword into the corpses mid-section. There was a long, agonizing moment, where the two just stared at each other, ignoring the chaos around them. The corpse stared at Anali with it's arms hanging at its side, and Anali, wither her hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword, stared stupidly at the corpse. When she tried to pull the sword out, it hardly budge.

The corpse came back to its senses, and raised its axe high above its head. Squeezing her eyes shut, Anali lifted her sword with as much strength as she could muster. She lifted with her legs, guiding the blade up, slicing through the corpse with as much effort as she could hope to gather. When the sword cut through the creature entirely, Anali nearly fell over.

The creature let out an odd, strained cry before it dissolved into black and purple smoke. Anali decided that that was enough swordplay for the moment, she would stick with her tome from here on out. "I'd learn to use that sword before going into battle next time!" Anali heard over the _trot, trot_ of hooves.

A woman pulled back on her horses reigns as she drove her lance through the neck of one of the corpse-like creatures. She had short red hair in a boyish cut, with red and silvery armor. At first glance, she definitely looked like a woman not to take anything from anyone, man or woman. "Captain Chrom!" the woman called, looking into the battlefield.

Several yards away, Chrom drew his arm back after beheading the corpse he was battling against. He glanced up in the direction of the voice to find the red haired woman. "Sully! Good timing," beamed Chrom. "We could use another set of hands here."

"You're one of the Shepherds, I presume?" Anali asked, looking up at the woman.

The woman looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow. "Who're you?"

"Ah… I'm, eh… Anali," she stuttered. "I-I just…"

"Don't take your eyes off the enemy!" barked Sully.

Startled, Anali looked forward, one of the corpses was hobbling in her direction. Panicked, she swiped out the tome from her cloak and tossed her hand forward. A volt of electricity threw the corpse back. "Milady!" a man with the most peculiar accent called.

A tall dandy with long blue hair emerged from the forest. He had a quiver of arrows strapped onto his back with a pauldron and couter on his left arm. The man was clearly a bit older than either Sully or Anali; he looked to be a bit out of breath. Despite this, he was trying his darndest to keep an air of charisma.

"Oh, great," Sully mumbled. She glared at the blue-haired man. "I thought I lost you a mile ago!"

"Life maybe long but this attraction is fleeting!" the man rattled on, ignoring the chaos in front of him. "Leave war to the warriors, dear bird! A beauty such as you need wage only love."

"Friend of yours?" Anali asked, tossing a Thunder spell at an approaching corpse.

"Pfft! Hardly!" snapped Sully throwing her lance.

"The ladies are intrigued?" the man chuckled. "Of course you are - it is only natural. I am a myth and legend! I am he who strides large across histories greatest stage! My name, dear ladies, is Vi-"

"You're an archer, right?" Anali interrupted, blasting at another corpse. When it hit the ground, she turned towards the blue-haired archer, she hugged her tome close to her. "Are you any good?"

"Virion!" the man shouted. His suave was gone and quickly replaced with irritation. "My name is Virion!"

"Alright, _Virion_, are you a good archer?"

Virion's eyes glared at Anali, who was wondering if she had just insulted him. He held his bow tight in his grip and retrieved an arrow from his quiver. Anali's heart was in her throat when Virion aimed at _her_. She opened her tome and held it close, she readied herself; if this man fired at her to prove a point, then…

To her surprise, the arrow flew past Anali's cheek. She heard a strained cry behind her, then peered over her shoulder. The corpse-like creature Anali had blasted back with her spell had gotten back onto it's feet, and was ready to attack once more. Virion's arrow penetrated it's skull, right between its red, sunken in eyes.

"I would _think_ so," Virion replied coolly with a smirk.

"Okay," Anali squeaked out. Clearing her throat, she tapped her chest with her fist. "Actually this could work out. I mean since you're here you might as well help. Virion, I want you to team up with Lissa. She's more or less defenseless right now."

"What do you take me for?" Virion asked, flicking a lock of hair out of his face. "Some barbari-"

"Hey!" Sully snapped. She grabbed Virion by the back of his collar and lifted him up very slightly. "_You_ followed _me_ all the way here! You may as well help."

"Sully," Anali said, snatching the red haired woman's attention. "I want you to stay by the fields borders, we don't want any of these things to get to Southtown."

"Right," Sully uttered. She urged her horse forward, towards a corpse that was about to step over the border.

It was arguably a good thing that these creatures disintegrated when they were stuck down. Had that not been the case, odds were the field would have been a bloody mess. Sully and Virion stayed where they were instructed as Chrom, Fredrick, and Anali battled against the creatures in the field. If someone was injured to the point of bleeding, Lissa was quickly at her side with her healing magic.

Anali wiped the sweat from her brow, and looked down at her tome. It's pages were being diminished, fast. There had to be away to get these creatures to retreat somehow. If their leader was taken out then the subordinates should fall back, hopefully. Did they have a leader, though? They would have to be the largest of the lot, one that just _oozed_ with intimidation.

And there he was. The tallest of the corpse-like creatures. Strong limbs, a metallic face, and wild black hair cascading down it's back. That was it. It had to be. Anali slid her book into the internal pocket of her cloak, and whipped out her sword. She still did not quite know how to use it, but Anali got the feeling that this guy needed more than just magic.

She ran towards the creature, her sword held out at her side. Maybe, with this running start, Anali could get in a lucky hit. Just one to injure it. Three feet away from the creature, and Anali drew her arm back, then thrust it forward, the tip of the blade pierced through the creature. She pulled out the sword, not quite sure what to expect now.

The creature clutched onto it's tomahawk, and stared straight at Anali. She stood her ground, hand clinging onto her sword for dear life, but then she saw a flash of blue and white out of the corner of her eye. Chrom hurried past her, and faced off against the creature. One last good strike and the creature dissolved into smoke and haze. "Sorry," Chrom said, sliding his sword back into it's sheath. "Was that one yours?"

"_No_. No, no, no, no," Anali said quickly. She held up a hand for further emphasis. "All yours. I-I…" She gestured to her sword with her free hand, and said with a very weak laugh, "I've no idea what I'm doing with this thing…"

Chrom smirked playfully. "You're swordplay needs work," he admitted. "If you do say yes, we'll work on it before we ever go into battle."

"Okay," Anali nodded. "Great."

The fires subdued, and early morning was beginning to peek out over the horizon. As Anali predicted, the creatures dropped like flies after their leader was gone. If not dead, they fled into the forest. Meaning they were still alive (if one could call it that), so they were still a threat.

"I came to scout the area," Sully explained. She had dismounted her horse and was petting him on the muzzle. "Ran into Fopleroy here on the outskirts of Yilsstol. Thought I lost him a while back, but alas. I wasn't expecting to see you here, Captain."

"Thank gods you did," said Chrom. "I'm not sure how we could have faired without the extra help." He turned to Virion. "You're shooting is quite impeccable."

"You flatter me, sir," Virion said, placing a gloved hand over his heart.

"We could use someone of your skill among our numbers."

"Ah, _what_?!" Sully shouted in protest. She jerked her thumb at the blue haired dandy. "This womanizing pervert?"

The gesture Virion had given Chrom as a sign of respect, suddenly turned melodramatic. Virion's slender face paled and his hand gripped the fabric over his heart. "Your words stab, milady," Virion said through a strained voice. "Have I not proven my worth?"

"You followed me into the forest," Sully said flatly.

"Hey, he saved our hides by showing up," Lissa spoke up. She glanced over at Sully, adding, "And he was hovering over me the whole time, and stayed a good three feet away from me. I'd hardly call that perverted."

In the end Virion took Chrom up on his offer. Sully, with Virion, returned to Yisstol ahead of them to report all that happened in the forest. Sully was not entirely thrilled about riding horseback with Virion, but did not argue.

Shortly after they had left, Fredrick returned to Chrom's side, with a boy in blue close by him. The boy was thin, in blue clothing with gold accents, the fabric looked quite sturdy, yet very fine. It must have cost a fortune. The boy's hair was also blue, with a gold tiara at the crown, or maybe it was just a really fancy headband. But, with many thanks to the mask covering half his face, there was not much else to describe about him.

To Anali, however, even with how little else there was to him, the boy looked like he could have been in his mid to late teens. Maybe, just _maybe,_ a little younger, as his skin look to soft and clear that he may have never needed to shave before.

"It seems all the creatures were vanquished," Fredrick informed. He gestured to the blue-haired boy. "This young man took care several others before they could get too far, but we have lost sight of some of them."

"I never got to thank you for before," Lissa said, taking a step towards the boy. She kept her hands behind her back, and carried a bright smile on her face. "So… thank you. You were very brave."

"My name is Chrom," her brother introduced. "Might I ask yours?"

The boy was silent for a moment before he answered, "You may call me Marth."

Anali could tell the name meant something to Chrom, Lissa, and Fredrick, judging by the looks on their faces. You may as well have just told them Lissa was with child and the surprise by this boys name still would have shaken them the most. "After the heroic king of old?" Chrom asked the boy. He smiled. "Well, you certainly fight like a hero. Where did you learn your way with a sword?"

"I'm not here to talk about me," Marth said briskly. "This world is teetering on the brink of calamity. What you saw here tonight was just the prelude."

"What?" Anali questioned, her face beginning to twist in confusion. "You're going to have to elaborate further on that."

Marth shook his head. "I've already said enough for now." Turning around, he walked off a few meters before he peered over his shoulder. It was impossible to read his expression with the mask hiding his eyes. "You have been warned."

The boy continued on his way, strolling past the burnt up grass, and rising clouds of smoke. Into the forest he walked, the cape he wore over his shoulder billowing in the wind. Long after Marth had disappeared into the forest, Lissa spoke up. "Chrom, what did he mean by that?"

"I couldn't tell you, Lissa," replied Chrom. "But it sounds like we'll learn soon enough."

"The guy's really not one for conversation is he?" Anali asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No," Fredrick agreed. "It would appear his skills lay elsewhere. But, I wager we'll hear his name again. I, however, am more concerned about the capital. We should make haste."

* * *

><p>It was well into the day by the time the four arrived in Ylisstol. A bright, beautiful city with people bustling around going about their daily needs. Anali must have looked out of place in a city like this. Like a country bumpkin. No, <em>worse<em> than a country bumpkin, she was dressed in foreign garbs, and looked positively filthy. While the blood on her skin had, for the most part, worn away, Anali still looked like a homeless street urchin trying to hide the murder she had just committed.

But, Anali could have been arrested right then and there, and she would not have minded in the slightest. There were so many sights and people around her, Anali just wanted to stand and gawk, surely a prison cell would have been a marvel to look at, too. She felt a bubbly, excitement build up in her chest. She just wanted to explore, but alas, she could not. She had to keep up with her rescuers.

"It would appear the capital was spared of the chaos we endured," Fredrick observed, leading Hermia by the reigns. "The quake must have been limited to the forest. Thank the gods."

"Well, that's a relief!" Lissa said with a skip in her step.

The townsfolk suddenly begin pushing against each other, crowding up before the palace gates. They swung open, and the crowd parted. A blonde woman in green robes rode out on a white horse, guarded at all sides by armed soldiers on horseback. "Is that the Exalt?" asked Anali.

"Yes," Fredrick replied. "Her name is Lady Emmeryn."

"And she's your ruler, yes? Is it really safe for her to be out in public like this?"

"The exalt is a symbol of peace," Fredrick explained with a slight smile. "Ylisse's most prized quality. Long ago, at the dawn of our age, the fell dragon tried to destroy the world. But the first Exalt joined forces with the divine dragon and laid the beast low. Exalt Emmeryn reminds us of the peace we fought for."

"And with Plegia at our borders, the people need her," Chrom added. "She's a calming presence when other's might call for war."

Anali remained silent all the while; soaking in Fredrick's and Chrom's words. After seeing the brigand attack, it did seem little wonder that there would be those who would want to go to war against Plegia. And with the threat Marth warned of just hours ago, times were about to get darker. It must have taken a lot of inner strength to hold onto your morals like that. To simply _be_ a symbol of peace seemed unfathomable to Anali. "She sounds amazing," Anali said with a soft smile. "The people of Ylisse are very blessed to have her."

"Uh-huh!" Lissa nodded in agreement. "She's also the best big sister anyone could ask for!"

"Yes," Anali agreed with a sunny smile. "I suppose - Wait, what?" Her expression dropped, she replayed Lissa's words over and over in her head. She looked from Chrom and Lissa, to the Exalts retreating figure, then back to the siblings. "She's your…? B-But wouldn't that make you and Chrom…?"

"The prince and princess of the realm, yes," Fredrick said with an amused smiled. "You remember Chrom's name, but not this?"

"You said you were shepherds!" Anali snapped. She clapped her hands over her mouth upon realizing she raised her voice. It came out much louder than she had indented.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Chrom. He appeared to be unaffected by Anali's sudden outburst. If nothing else, he was just as amused as Fredrick was. "We just tend to a lot of sheep."

Anali kept her hands over her mouth. With the way Fredrick behaved around Chrom and Lissa, Anali simply presumed that they were the children of a lord, or at least someone with a high rank. But the prince and princess?! But when Anali thought about it, yes, there were a lot of things between waking up and this very moment that really should have tipped her off. How in Naga's name did Anali not see it sooner?

"Chrom!" Anali blurted out. She slapped her hands over her mouth again, still louder than she had wanted. "_Prince_ Chrom, sire! P-Please forgive my ignorance. I-I've been so… so… I-I-I…" Defeated, Anali buried her face into her hands. Her cheeks felt warm against her palms, any warmer and her skin just might burn. "Please just cut me down now…"

Her eyes were squeezed shut, refusing to reopen, especially since Lissa was insistent on giggling like a madwoman. However, the clap on her shoulder took Anali by surprise, which was just enough to make her look up. Chrom appeared to have had himself a good chuckle over Anali's minor breakdown.

"Just Chrom is fine," he reassured her, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze. "I've never been one for formalities." He looked back towards the street. "It looks like Emm's returned to the palace. Would you like to meet her?"

"Um…"

"Oh, yeah!" Lissa said. She placed her hands on Anali's back and started to push her down the road. "Wait till you meet her yourself!"

Anali did not say anything… out loud at least. But everything inside her was just screaming, _'NO, NO, NO, NO, NOOOOO!'_

On the palace grounds Anali was completely overcome with the need to turn and run, but somehow she fought back the urge. They were greeted with the occasional 'milord,' or 'milady,' as they past soldiers and other servents. Anali felt as though their eyes were on her, the foreigner who may as well have been rolling around in dirt and pigs blood for the last three days.

Couldn't they have allowed her to be drenched in water first? Wash off the blood and grime? This was a place so elegant and fine. Anali was quite certain she would spoil something in the palace by just simply _standing_ there, or just by _looking_ at something.

She tried to make herself look somewhat presentable by running her hands through her hair. But her fingers were quickly caught in knots. Anali tried pulling at them, however it only made the whole thing worse. She imagined she looked like a madwoman who rolled around in dirt and pigs blood. Just the type of person to be meeting someone as respectable as the Exalt.

"Anali," Chrom said, coming to a stop. He walked up to her. "Relax. I promise, we're not uppity people."

"_You're_ not. Fine," Anali said shaking her head. "But what of everyone else? Would they be okay working alongside some homeless woman who is, most likely, from the very country trying to instigate war?"

Biting the inside of her cheek, Anali thought back to the previous day. How Chrom pretty much said that if there were to ever be peace between the two countries, someone needed to take the first step. "You think we could be that first step?" Anali asked. She shook her head, unable to decided if Chrom was having delusions of grandeur, or if there really was something to this. "I do not wish to cause you any trouble for all of this…"

"You won't, Anali," the blue-haired man reassured her. "There will be challenges, yes. Not everyone will be okay a Plegian in our borders, and with the Shepherds. But I am willing to face those challenges."

"Why though?"

"Because I believe something good can come from this. Because I believe you can find a place with us. If you cannot find family or friends, you can always have the Shepherds."

Anali blinked. She never really thought about what she might do if she could not find someone, friend or family, who knew her. She may as well have been a homeless woman who would have done anything for money. Chrom wanted her for her skills, yes, but he was also offering her a possible future. Someplace to rest during the night, a roof over her head. He was offering this to a complete stranger. "You are either a truly good man, or a truly foolish one," Anali said quietly.

"Amazing how often those two lines cross," chuckled Chrom.

Anali sighed, "I suppose I am willing to face those challenges, too. I would be honored to call myself a Shepherd."

"And we would be honored to have you."

Anali smiled awkwardly finding it a little difficult to believe how much had happened within such a short timeframe. Not even two days, that was the extent of Anali's life. She knew more about Chrom than she did about herself. All she really knew was that she had something of a tactical mind. How could she support herself if she declined Chrom's offer? What skill did she have? Really, whether or not Anali was ready and willing to face the challenges to come, she was going to _have_ to.

At the end of the long hallway, the four were met with a beautiful blonde woman, a stern woman with light blue hair pulled back into a tight up-do, and a short man, several decades older than the women at his side. The blonde woman's hair fell over her shoulders in thick curls. She wore the light green and yellow robes of a sage over her very simple white dress. The Exalt had a very calming presents about her, but what Anali found herself staring at was the mark on her forehead, right between her eyes. It was the same mark Chrom wore on his right shoulder. Did Lissa bear a mark like that? Obviously it meant something to the royal line.

Emmeryn smiled warmly at the sight of her younger siblings. She pulled them each into a tight embrace, which both Chrom and Lissa reciprocated. "Welcome home," she greeted. Her voice was just as gentle and pleasant as her appearance. Releasing Lissa, Emmeryn gave Fredrick a knowing smile. "And good day, Fredrick. I hope they weren't too much trouble."

"No more than usual, Your Grace," Fredrick said with a brisk nod.

"How fared you all?"

"We shouldn't have any problems with bandits for a while," Chrom explained.

"Wonderful. And our people?"

"As safe as can be, Emm. But we still need to watch our borders. The brigands crossed over from Plegia."

"Forgive me, milord," the blue-haired woman said, bowing her head slightly. "My Pegasus Knights should have intercepted them."

"No, Phila. Your duty was here with the Exalt."

"However," the man spoke up while he adjusted his small, round spectacles. "It sound's like we will need to keep a closer eye on our borders. I shall alert the people as soon as possible."

"Take no more precautions that necessary, Traino," said Chrom. "We want to keep the people at ease for as long as possible."

"Besides," Lissa spoke up, her voice was laced with glee. "We had plenty of help."

"Ah, you speak of your new companion, here?" Emmeryn asked, looking up at the dark haired woman with a gentle expression.

Anali tried to shrink back into her cloak. She was just beginning to feel comfortable around her rescuers, why did she have to feel so shy now? Her face began to heat up when Chrom placed an arm around Anali's shoulder, and ushered her up beside him; precisely so Emmeryn could get a good look at her. "This is Anali," Chrom said, introducing the woman. "She fought bravely with us against the brigands. I've decided to make her a Shepherd."

"It sounds like Yilsse owes you a debt of gratitude, Anali," smiled Emmeryn.

"N-No, not at all, milady," Anali said, holding both hands up in protest. "I-I just…"

"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I must speak up," Fredrick cut her off. As soon as Fredrick spoke up, her heart dropped into her stomach. "Anali claims to have lost her memory, but it is only that; a claim. We found her wearing this Plegian garb as you see before you. But what's more, Anali bears the Mark of Grima on the back of her hand."

Chrom's head snapped in the brunettes' direction. "Fredrick!" he hissed.

"What?" Traino gasped. "Milord, what possessed you into-"

"Please, Traino," Emmeryn held up her hand, silencing him. She was eerily calm, which lead Anali to worry. "Chrom, did you ever plan on telling me about this? About the mark?"

The mark? What was so special about the mark on her hand? If it was Plegian, then, yes, Anali could understand why someone would have a problem with it. But no one told her what. This was new to her.

"I…" Chrom struggled to find his words. "I thought we would discuss this privately."

"In other words, avoid the matter all together," said Phila. Chrom grimaced, the Pegasus Knight had pegged him down perfectly.

"Emm," Lissa spoke up. "We both know how this looks, even Anali does. But she's had more than enough opportunities to do something if she was a Plegian spy. And we all know for a fact that _Fredrick_ would have been the first person to see it if Anali was up to something."

"Milady," said Phila. Her eyes traveled between the young princess and Anali. "With the precautions we've had to take at our boarders lately, Plegia would _have_ to be crafty."

"And, if I may," Traino added. "This amnesia ploy could easily be an act to gain sympathy from Ylisse's prince and princess. If word got out that that a Plegian is amongst us, the people would-"

"Please," Anali spoke up. She brushed Chrom's arm off her shoulder. "Your Grace, the last thing I want to do is cause problems. I will gladly leave now, if I must."

"No, Anali," Chrom spoke up. He placed both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "We can work our way around this. This is-"

Emmeryn held her hand up once more, silencing her brother. "If you're claims are true," she said to Anali, her voice firm and calm. "And you have lost your memory, would you really be okay with leaving? You would be all right with living on the streets for who knows how long?"

Anali's hands were balled up in front of her chest. Her left hand covered her right, covering her mark. "I cannot say I'd be _okay_ with it," she said. "But… your brother and sister have been kind to me. I do not want to cause them any more trouble than necessary."

"You're no trouble, Anali," Chrom said, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders again. "Emm, I've been trying to live by your example, and I believe Anali is a welcomed aspect to the Shepherds, regardless of where she comes from. We cannot hold her responsible being for Plegian anymore than we can hold the sky responsible for being blue."

Emmeryn remained quiet while Chrom made his piece. Her eyes rested on her brother and Anali all the while. Once Chrom was finished, her eyes landed on Anali, the woman had shrunk back into her coat, her blush deepened, and she was beginning to pick at her right hand. "May I see?" Emmeryn asked her.

Anali swallowed. Slowly, she removed her left hand, then held up her right, showing the mark, the light purple lines, and the eyes that stared back, to the rest of the world. There was a sudden chill in the air, Phila tried to remain calm, but her flaring nostrils deceived her. Traino looked like he had aged by another twenty years. Emmeryn, on the other hand, remained as still as a statue, aside from her blinking eyes. "I cannot say," Emmeryn spoke after a pregnant pause. "That I have heard of Plegians, or even those of the Grimleal bearing such a mark on their bodies. So, I would not have an inkling of who you could have been, given that you're claims are true."

Closing her eyes, Emmeryn took in a deep breath. When her eyes reopened, she held her gaze upon her younger brother. "Chrom, you know all of this, yet you allowed her into the palace. Does this woman have your trust?"

"Yes," Chrom said without hesitation. "Anali risked her life to save our people, and may have saved mine. That's good enough for me."

Emmeryn's eyes fell back upon Anali once more, and the woman shrank again. "Well, then Anali," the Exalt said calmly. Slowly, she smiled. "It seems you have earned Chrom's faith and as such, you shall have mine as well."

"Thank you, milady," Anali said breathily.

"However, I would advise you keep your mark hidden. You will have no ill will from me, Chrom, or Lissa, but none of us have any control of our people, or the Shepherds. There are those who will not take kindly to a woman bearing Grima's sigil."

Anali nodded. "I understand."

"Thank you for your prudence, Fredrick," Emmeryn told the brown haired man kindly. "Chrom and Lissa are blessed to have so tireless a guardian. I do hope they remember to mention it from time to time."

"They occasionally express _something_ akin to gratitude, Your Grace," sighed Fredrick. He looked to Phila. "I assume Sully has informed you about the deathly creatures we encountered, yes?"

"Yes, milord," Phila said with a brisk nod.

"Chrom," Emmeryn spoke up. "We are about to hold counsel. I was hoping you could join us."

"Of course," replied Chrom.

"That's our cue, Anali," Lissa said, locking arms with Anali. "Come on, I'll show you your quarters, and take you to meet the Shepherds."

"Em…" Anali's voice trailed off as she struggled to keep up with Lissa's fast pace. "Okay…"

The Shepherds garrison was about half a mile away from the palace. It was a circular brick building that, at first glance, did not look like much. At least, not to Anali, who could admit that she did not know much. However as she and Lissa made their way over to the garrison, she could see a handful of partially armed soldiers crossing blades and firing arrows.

"The garrison is something of our home base," Lissa explained as she lead the dark haired women down the dirt path. "They're housed here, train here, eat here. They're given weekly pay. Don't worry we'll get you settled. Unless you happen to have a satchel under that cloak."

"If only," Anali sighed, pulling at one sleeve.

"Well, in that case, I'm sure we can find something for you until we get you settled," said Lissa. She pulled open a wooden door, then gestured for Anali to enter.

Lissa lead her down several hallways until they came to the woman's bathing room, much to Anali's delight. Naga bless Lissa. Bless her and her sweet heart. At least Anali would not have to look like a mess when meeting the rest of the Shepherds. Anali could have started singing. "I'll look in our donation box," Lissa said before heading out of the room. "See if there's something in your size."

"All right," Anali said, removing her coat.

Anali slipped out of her boots, then began to fiddle with her belt. She removed her tome, sword, and money pouch, her belt and coat, and placed them a safe distance. Slowly, Anali removed her blood-stained clothing. What the heck was she doing before she lost her memory? Did she kill someone?

She had to wonder why Chrom was so trusting of her, despite the possibility. Anali could have been some murder for all any of them knew. What if she was someone undeserving of the royal family's kindness? She could have been one of the last people to receive such kindnesses.

Anali shook her head. She would get nowhere by getting herself worked up like this. The concerns she was feeling now may have just been a fabrication of a wild imagination. There was a logical reason for the blood on her clothes, that much she was certain of, but worrying about it like this was not going to make her remember any sooner. Right now, she should just enjoy a good bath.

Anali slowly removed her filthy clothes, wondering if she should bother keeping them. The coat could come in handy during the winter, and, assuming she found a different pair, it could be good to carry spare boots. But on one hand keeping them could cause her trouble with the locals. On the other hand, it felt wrong to just throw them out and forget about them, it felt like a betrayal.

In the end, Anali decided to hold onto the clothes, for now.

She scrubbed herself blood and sweat, the water soothing against her scratched and bruised skin, and her sore muscles. Her hair was cleaned of ash and sweat, then brushed smoothed. When her hair was dried, there was a pleasant shine to it, and felt soft to the touch. In a moment of vanity, Anali silently swore to herself that she would not get her hair that filthy again.

Lissa returned minutes later with a change of clothes. "I kinda had to guess what your size was," Lissa said, placing the clothes with Anali's belongings. "But it should hold you over until you go to the market."

"All right," Anali smiled. "Thank you."

Thankfully, Lissa had chosen more than one set. Anali decided to go through each one, determine what fit the best, then go from there. There were at least two tunics Anali swore were boys tunics, one actually fit pretty well, but Anali could not stand the dark yellow color.

In the end, she had chosen a blue-green, sleeveless tunic that went down to her mid thigh that had a long neck. According to Lissa, it was a part of the old Pegasus Knight uniform. With the tunic, black slacks, and the boots she was found it, Anali felt a little ridiculous. Namely because of the boots. They were meant to be filled up by slacks like the ones Anali woke up in. With tight black slacks, the boots looked kind of silly.

Studying herself, Anali looked down at her hands, then rubbed the back of her right hand. "Where there any gloves?" she asked Lissa.

"Sorry," Lissa shook her head. "I couldn't find any in the donations. B-But we should be able to use riding gloves, for now. I'll have to talk to someone about that."

It seemed like there was a lot of _'for nows,' _as of late. Did Anali have a right to complain about it? Royals or not, she was kind of an inconvenience. "I'm sure no one will notice," Lissa said, reading the discomfort on Anali's face. "_I_ didn't even notice it until Fredrick said something about it."

Anali tried to put on a smile. She knew Lissa was trying to be helpful, but the only reason she did not notice Anali's mark until Fredrick said something, was because Anali was covered in blood. Of course Lissa didn't notice it at first, not when she found a woman looking like _that_. But surely someone else would easily notice the purple mark on her skin.

Then she remembered Emmeryn's words, how she had not heard of anyone in Plegia bearing such a mark. Was this and oddity amongst Plegians? Why did she even want this sigil in the first place? And why on her hand? Surely there were better places for body art. Ugh, too many questions.

* * *

><p>Thank the gods that turned out the way it did. Chrom wasn't sure why he doubted Emmeryn would accept Anali. His words about both sides needing just one person to bridge the gap, they was more his sisters words than his own. If Chrom were in her shoes they would have marched up to Plegia's capitol and usurped King Gangrel years ago.<p>

But, that was why Ylisse needed Emmeryn. Chrom would do his duty by keeping the people safe. Ylisse's army had been in shambles since Emmeryn took the throne, everyone knew that a military draft would be out of the question. The last time Ylisse's army took up a draft policy, it left so many families broken, and orphaned children. So, Chrom had to lead what little volunteers there were.

The Shepherds would fight back against the bandits, no doubt, Grangel encouraged into Ylisseian territory. The Shepherds would keep local bandits under wraps. They would fight against the creatures of this morning, and of the threats Marth warned about.

By the time they had made it to the counsel hall, the representatives from Ylisse's bigger cities, and border towns had already seated at the large, round table. The same faces of men and women Chrom had seen since he started attending counsel meetings when he was fifteen looked up when the group of five entered the hall. Nearly five years since Emmeryn had deemed Chrom old enough to attend counsel meetings, and the councilmen had only two changes. But even then, the faces remained the same.

With the rising bandit attacks as of late, it seemed as though counsel was being held more often these days. Some shouted for war and restitution, as Plegia was known for it's wealth. And others wanted more soldiers at the borders. The people wanted _something_ done and soon.

When Chrom entered the hall close beside his sister, and Traino, the hierarch, the various Duke's and Duchesses showered Chrom and Fredrick with warm greetings, and _'how are you'_ and _'have your Shepherds be giving you a hard time_' and _'how ware your scouting this time around.'_ And calmly, Emmeryn requested that the counsel hold off on questions until Chrom and Fredrick's report had completed.

So, Chrom recounted the past days events to the councilmen. How their scouting had brought them to the village of Elrond, and with great luck. A small band of Plegians had been going into homes, and tearing them apart before leaving. Never stealing anything, only threatening people to keep quiet.

"Enough is enough!" Duchess Hawthorn shouted, interrupting Chrom's report. She slammed her fist onto the table. "Attack rates are at it's highest, and it is only March! At this rate-"

"Please," Traino said, breathing the word out. "Duchess, there are many who share your concerns, but let the prince finish his tale."

"Thank you, Traino," Chrom said with a brief nod.

As it turned out, according to Elrond's local, the Plegians had followed a caravan who had tried to take shelter the night before. Unfortunately, one of the caravan members had been found dead. She was the only death in Elrond, for better or worst.

Chrom was not about to forget the care the caravan gave their fallen comrade. The woman and her performance partner (their words, not his) were still relatively new, having joined them a little more than a year ago. Last he heard from them, they were planning on giving her a proper vigil. She shouldn't have had to die.

The Plegians tormenting Elrond had been a little too easy, even if they were mages. After having a quick lunch as a gift from the villagers, they were on their way back to Ylisstol. And then they found Anali, and then came the bandits in Southtown. "Ah, yes, I heard about that," Duke Alder said with a haughty laugh. "Needed a little help from a local girl, did you not, milord?"

"Not exactly," replied Chrom. "She _is_, however, our newest Shepherd."

"Always wonderful to hear of new recruits," Rowan said with a warm smile. "My youngest son is looking forward to joining himself."

Chrom had to smile a little. He had met the boy in question just once, but he was a spirited boy of ten, maybe eleven years by now. Of course, they couldn't accept him into the Shepherds until he turned fifteen. The exception to this rule was Ricken, and even then it was only by one year. But with his noble status, and his gift for magic, they decided to take him in for training at least. "We'll be happy to have him when he's old enough," smiled Chrom

"Milord," Fredrick spoke up. "You and can discuss this with Lady Rowan another time, but I'm afraid we have more pressing matters at hand.

"Agreed," replied Phila. "Though, if I may, I fear we may need more military recruits in the months to come."

Traino, with his arms crossed over his chest, and a very solemn expression on his face, nodded. "With two Plegian attacks within the same day. Milady, I know you don't want it to come to that, but I do think we should start preparing our armies."

Emmeryn's eyes cast downward, locked on the edge of the table. Her expression was calm, but Chrom knew this was one of the last things she wanted to hear. Ylisse was still recovering from the last time they went to war. Could their people suffer through another one? Of course, it wasn't just the teetering threat of war that plagued Ylisse at the moment.

"Sister," Chrom spoke up. "There is something else, though I am sure Sully has already inform you."

"She has," replied Emmeryn. "And, while our problems with bandits is a concern, I want to put this new matter on the table."

"Your Grace?" questioned Lady Hawthorn.

"Chrom, if you will."

"Of course," replied Chrom.

Chrom recounted the morning's events to the counsel, but left out Marth and his warning. Perhaps it was a choice that would come back to bite him in the arse later, but how was he supposed to explain it? A young man with a mask arrived out of some ethereal portal with a warning of destruction? A boy carrying the name of the famed Hero-King himself? The counsel would have questions, questions he couldn't answer.

Of course, Fredrick knew Chrom had purposefully omitted Marth from the story, he kept quiet. Surely, Fredrick realized why the prince could not tell the counsel about the masked swordsmen. Instead, Chrom would tell Emmeryn and Phila about Marth in private. It seemed right that Emmeryn at least knew abut the man who saved their little sister.

They would not believe him, not at first. But in time, they would, when the creatures were scene by more villagers. At most, they would assume they were bandits at first, but the travelers would get better looks at them. There would come a point where they could not remain in denial, these creatures will eventually become common knowledge. For better or worse.

The Ylisseans were strong, as Emmeryn would say, they would retaliate against such creatures. The Shepherds certainly would.

Holding her possessions in one arm, Anali followed Lissa down a couple of hallways until they came to, what appeared to be, a mess hall. A handful of people sat at one of the long tables, each appearing to be pretty chummy with each other. A girl with sunny blonde hair done up in thick ringlets all but shot onto her feet when she heard the door open. Smiling boldly, she hurried to Lissa, and the two met each other halfway.

"Lissa, darling!" the girl said. With those two words, Anali could tell that the girl had a refine speech pattern. She almost found it humorous compared to the way Lissa spoke so casually with others.

"Hey, Maribelle!" Lissa greeted, tossing her arms around the blonde.

"Hey, yourself!" the blonde girl snapped, pulling apart from Lissa. "I've developed premature grey hair, _every_ hour, _on_ the hour, fretting over you the moment Sully explained what happened in the forest, and all you can say is 'hey?!'"

"What?" Lissa asked innocently with a teasing smile. "We weren't gone for that long, and it's not like I can't handle a battle or two. Though I could've gone without the rabbit meal."

"Of course," Maribelle said with a heavy, exasperated sigh. "I am not saying that, darling, but can you honestly blame me after hearing Sully's stories about the horrid creatures, and the forest fire this morning?" She cupped one hand over her mouth, leaned in closer to Lissa, and whispered, "And, admittedly, that Virion character has me just a _tiny_ bit concerned."

"Oh, it was nothing we couldn't handle," Lissa argued with a wave of her hand. "Besides, we had _plenty_ of help."

The Cleric linked arms with Anali, who started to shrink into her collar. Sadly, it did not have the same effect as her coat. "This is Anali," Lissa introduced. "Chrom asked her to join us as our newest Shepherd."

The first person to stand was a young woman with long, ash brown hair. She walked up to Anali with a kind smile. "Anali, it's nice to meet you," the woman said. "My name is-"

The woman was cut off when she tripped over her own two feet, and landed flat on her face. There were a few sighs let out, someone muttering 'typical,' and a couple of notes from a lyre played off-key. "Are you okay?!" Anali asked, her free hand suddenly balled up in front of her chest.

"Y-Yes," the woman pulled herself onto her knees with a weak smile. Slowly, she stood up, and dusted her knees off. "I'm eh… just breaking in a new pair of boots, is all."

There were more grumbles from the group she had been previously talking to. Of course, Anali did not buy the woman's claims at all. But she decided it was best to let the matter drop, if only for the lady's dignity.

Composing herself, the woman held her hand out to Anali. Neither of them noticed the spiky blonde man canning his head around. "As I was saying," the woman smiled as though her fall never happened. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Anali. I'm Sumia."

Anali smiled weakly, and shook hands with Sumia. The woman, though obviously a bit clumsy, seemed like a very kind, and gentle person. She had something of a calming aura around her, and a sweet face as fresh as rain. Anali realized that Sumia was very easy to like.

"What the hell?!" the blonde man with olive skin stood up. He marched up to Sumia and Anali and grabbed Anali by her wrist, the right wrist. The man held her wrist so that the back of her hand was exposed to the world, then he turned to Lissa. "You're telling me we've gotten so desperate that we need help from one of _them_!"

"Vaike!" Lissa snapped.

"Vaike, that's not fair!" Sumia shouted at the same time. Neither her tone nor her expression were angry, unlike Lissa, if anything, Sumia was outright stunned by Vaike's outburst.

"'Not fair?'" Vaike repeated, venom dripped from his voice. "You've seen the damage they've done before, and the damage they're still doing, and all you can say that calling her out on it is 'not fair?!'"

"Vaike, be reasonable," a young man with shaggy olive hair spoke up. "You can't blame one person for something that happened over ten years ago."

"Her. Her father, her kinsmen, they all disserve the blame."

"Vaike, please!" Lissa interrupted. "Anali has a tactical eye, and I agree with Chrom when he says we could use someone of Anali's talents."

"Wait, wait," Vaike held up his free hand. "Letting her in was Chrom's idea?"

"Of course it was," Lissa said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Vaike, you wouldn't question Chrom's judgment, would you?" a boy about fourteen asked, Anali had a hard time seeing his expression, due to the wide rim of his hat.

"Normally, I wouldn't," Vaike admitted. "But we're talking about an obvious Grimleal fanatic."

"Vaike," Lissa said, keeping her glare on the blonde. "I'll have you know, Anali helped us save Southtown from Plegians."

And in the blink of an eye, Anali felt the overwhelming urge to throw any shyness she was still feeling out the window. Not only did Vaike still hold her by the wrist, but they were talking like all Plegian's were completely, and utterly amoral.

Furrowing her brow, Anali balled up her hand. She tossed her arm back, taking Vaike's hand with it, twisting his wrist so that he had to let her go. Anali was vaguely aware of the pleased _heh_, from Sully, but ignored it. "Can we stop talking about me like I'm not even here?" she asked, trying not to raise her voice.

Lissa lowered her arms, and looked down at the floor, a pang guilt written on her face. Vaike, on the other hand, clenched his jaw so tight that his lips twitched. He turned on his heel, and promptly excused himself from the room.

"Oh, dear," Maribelle muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Anali to hear. "That escalated quite quickly."

"H-Hey, let's forget about that," the olive-haired man said, quickly standing up himself. "So, we're fighting along side a Plegian, blood's red no matter what, right? Nice to meet you, Anali, I'm Stahl."

Stahl, as Anali learned very quickly, was just as easy to like Sumia. He didn't seem to be that ambitious, but happy with where he was. It was probably the laid back vibes he gave off, that helped Anali relax a little.

Then there was Miriel, who had a scholarly air to her, the book she was still reading while introducing herself was a dead giveaway. Anali was willing to guess that she was reading through Vaike and Lissa's entire argument. Unexpectedly, she grabbed Anali's right hand, and brought the back of it up to her eye level. Miriel snapped her book closed. "Fascinating," she said, mostly to herself. Her eyes, shielded by a sharp pair of glasses, looked Anali over, namely the bundle in her left arm. "You practice magic?"

"A-Ah… um…" Anali looked down at Miriels dark robes, and the wide rim hat, covering her red hair. "A-A bit, yes."

"Oh, cool!" the fourteen-year-old boy said, hurrying up to Anali's side. His robes were similar to Miriel's, but his were in blue. "I could give you a few pointers, if you're interested. Oh, I'm Ricken, by the way."

Ricken was about half a head shorter than Anali, and it seemed fairly obvious to her that the boy had never had a beard in his life. When he shook Anali's hand with vigor, she could not for the life of her tell if this was how Ricken usually acted, or if he was simply being friendly and welcoming.

After Ricken, Anali was properly introduced to Sully. Apparently the red-head never caught Anali's name back in the forest. However, Sully's somewhat friendly demeanor vanished when she took Anali by the shoulder, and pulled her close to her. "If you do anything to betray the trust of Chrom and the Exalt," Sully whispered into her ear, each word stabbed into Anali over, and over. "You can bet that you will meet the end of my lance. Understood?"

Anali only nodded. The threat was definitely acknowledged.

"Hello," a girl of fifteen or sixteen, greeted with a warm smile. Her hair was an olive-blond, and green eyes. She wore a earthy-colored skirt with an ivory top. "My name is Elaine. I'm _technically_ not one of the Shepherds, but it's still nice to meet you."

This confused Anali at first, but it would not be until later that night did Anali learn that Elaine was a Cleric, much like Lissa. She wasn't really a Shepherd, but Elaine would be the one treating any injury received during training.

And then there was the flirt, Virion. While the archer was also the Shepherds newest recruit, he looked like he fit in with the group better than Anali felt. Virion had no problem chatting with the likes of Miriel and Stahl as though they had known each other for years. Ad it was apparent to Anali that most of the Shepherds had known each other for a while. Their obvious camaraderie made Anali feel like and outsider.

Now, when it came to Maribelle, the blonde girl looked Anali once over, then she _tsked_. "I would hope you were cut from finer cloth darling," she said, holding her white parasol out in front of her. "I do understand that the hoi polloi cannot help what class they were born into. I really do. But I would hope that you have some standards."

"Maribelle!" Lissa chided.

"I'm only laying my opinions out on the table now, darling," Maribelle said, pursing her lips. "It will make things less awkward that way."

"Well," Anali said, the shyness suddenly gone again. "In a way, I've had a rough couple of days, so…" She shrugged. "Can't really be helped much now."

"No, I suppose it couldn't," the blonde agreed. "Well, first impressions are deceiving, after all. I suppose there is plenty of time to prove that there is a lovely gem under all that… well, and change my mind."

Without another word, Maribelle walked off with her head held high. Lissa peered at Maribelle's retreating figure, to Anali, then back. Lissa held up one hand to Anali, as though to say _'one moment please,' _then ran off to catch up with Maribelle. "Don't take her words to heart, Anali," Sumia said. "Maribelle warms up to people slowly."

"Or burns them to quickly," murmured Stahl.

Anali nodded. "I figured as much," she said quietly. "She managed to befriend Lissa, after all."

She felt a bit conflicted, wondering if she really made the right choice in saying yes to Chrom's offer. It was a comfort to think that she could easily befriend a few people in this room. But Anali felt more like an outsider than anything else. It was painfully obvious that everyone in this room had known each other for a while. And Anali clearly wasn't much of a social butterfly.

Anali was the one out of place here. Anali without any memory of herself before yesterday. Anali with the foreign cloak and the foreign mark on her hand. Anali who was most likely from the country Ylisse was feuding with.

Here's to some surely interesting times.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: <strong>So, Anali meet's 'Marth,' and she's still not entirely good at meeting new people, or taking compliments. Vaike makes his feelings about Anali known, Sully threatens her, and we see a new face in Elaine (and kinda sorta with Traino too). And we have to put up with my shitty politics in order to get a little bit of backstory. Honestly I didn't really want Vaike to be the distrustful one, given that he was amongst the most friendly in the game, but given his backstory, it was the most logical. Sully, I just figured she'd make it known that if you betray the royals, you'll have to face her wrath.

Reminder about my tumblr blog **sammiewritesstuff**, where I'll be happy to answer any question, and eventually post tidbits, updates, and other goodies.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three  
><strong>**Recreation**

Dark clouds shield the moon under a thick blanket as fires cackle around me over the screams of the soldiers and civilians being slaughtered. There are hardly any buildings still standing, the rubbles is set ablaze, and I doubt anything will be standing by morning.

I hurry down the cobblestone streets, my eyes beginning to sting from the smoky air. I can hear voices and strained growls, so I follow the sounds. The voices could only mean that there were people still around, being attacked, no doubt, even if the horrified screams did not make it obvious.

A few men and women run pass me, usually leading someone injured behind them, and urging their friend, family, or comrade, to hurry. Was there a safe house somewhere? How could such a place be still standing in the wake of all this destruction and chaos? I shouldn't question it, if they had someplace to stay safe, then that was good, wonderful even.

Half-jogging down the street, the remaining wall of a building collapses in front of me. I jump back, my hands balled close to my chest, startled. When the ashes settled down I see a man fighting against a creature I recognize instantly, for I fought several of them myself. I know I should help this man, even if I get burned in the process. He will not last much longer on his own.

But it's too late. The creature grabs the man, it's hands covering his ears, then it turns the mans head swiftly. I hear a sickening snap over the roaring fires as the creature releases the man's limp body. Oh Gods!

I run before the creature can see me. I am not armed, I would not have a fighting chance. My only chance is to run. I can see yellow lights from a building a good mile down the road. Outside from the lights in the windows, however, I cannot see any of the finer details. I cough, the smoke was beginning to get to me. Hopefully, I can make it to the lights before I collapse. And hopefully the air is cleaner there.

I run as fast as I could manage with the smoke inhalation, and the stinging in my eyes. A frightened woman bumps into me as she runs in the opposite direction. She is frightened, terrified, but she is also dressed in military garb. She is abandoning her post in cowardice, leaving her comrades-in-arms to fend for themselves, leaving them without an extra man. I don't know how I feel about this.

I make it to the building, trying desperately to keep my coughing fit under control. I enter the building where the air was somewhat, and thankfully, clean. But I can't take the moment to breathe, to clear my lungs, I am seeing all of this for a reason and I had better go find it.

I travel up one particularly long, spiraling flight of stairs. The staircase leads me up to a long hallway that was torn to bits. A decorative vase was shattered, a painting had been kicked in, and the walls clawed at. It's a shame, this place looked like it could have been quite beautiful once.

The hallway leads me to a large set of double doors. The doorknob on one of them was missing, and the second one was hanging on by it's hinge. But I hear grunts and cries from the other side. Bracing myself, I push the doors open.

I've walked into a war.

The creatures are fighting against armed, human, soldiers. I couldn't push myself through the room without being stricken by weapons from either side. This was bad, this was really bad, because as hard, and valiantly the soldiers fought, their numbers were quickly diminishing at the hands of the creatures.

I keep my back to the wall, inching my way across the room, looking for a fallen weapon I could use, so I could help the soldiers fight back. But the creatures claimed them before I could even think of diving for them. At my side, a soldier is slammed against the wall, tears in their eyes as the creature breathed a black haze onto their face.

The creatures pauses, the soldier holds their breath, I stare, wide eyed at the creatures abdomen. A sword is sticking out off center in its abdominal area. "I believe the one you want…" a girl says, her voice low and dangerous. "Is _me_!"

In a swift movement, the girl lifts her sword, slicing through the creature until it vanishes into a black haze. The girl stands, her back to the soldier. "We can't let these things win," she tells the soldier and, maybe me. She turns to face the soldier, but I cannot make out any specific detail in her face. "Now grab a sword, and fight!"

The soldier picks up the creatures fallen axe, she says something to the girl that I cannot hear, then jumps into the fray. The stray cry stole the girls attention, as an axe came hurtling towards her. The girl blocks the attack with the sword, pushing off the axe, the girl slides back, then thrusts forward; she plunges her sword into the creature.

This girl is it, this girl is the reason I am here, seeing all this destruction, I just know it. But why can't I see her face? What am I supposed to do?

The girl looks down at her latest kill until another creature barrels up to her. She blocks the creatures axe successfully. The girl maneuvers herself around, so that she could attack the creatures back, her attack missed, but even _I_ could tell that she had great skill. The girl slides back, she looks over her shoulder, yet another creature is gearing for an attack. Quickly the girl gets onto her feet, and readies herself.

The East wall is sporadically blown to bits, debris flying into the hall, the rest of the structure being blown away. The girl cries out, her arms shielding her face; the building rumbles, and I am forced onto my knees. I curl up in a ball, protecting my head as the shaking continues, and the rest of the hall is torn apart.

"So ends the human race," I hear. It is a deep, booming voice, but I cannot see where it is coming from.

I push myself onto my knees, taking in the destruction around me. Each wall had been blown to bits, the soldiers were dead all around me. The floor had been reduced in size by less then half, but what remained still stood, a miracle from Naga, no doubt. Where is the girl?!

I sigh in relief as she pulls herself up from the edge of the platform. Quickly, she is on her feet, her sword drawn in front of her. "The future is built upon the past," the deep voice says. "But your kind shall never see it."

The girl's head turns as she tries to locate the source of the voice. Until she looks to her left, clearly she see's something I cannot. Slowly, the girl turns herself to face this unseen force, her hands are shaking. "You're mother and father are dead, tiny one," the voice says with a low chuckle.

While I cannot make out the girl, her vulnerability is obvious to me. She is shaking, her breathing is uneven, I hear a quiver in her voice. She cannot face this thing alone, it is a death sentence. I'm not sure how I know this, I just do, as little sense as it makes.

I want to tell the girl not to be the hero, that it would be okay for her not to. That she would not survive this. But my voice is lost to me.

I cover my ears when the unseen force lets out a roar, powerful enough to shake the buildings structure, I fear that it will collapse on us. "And now it is your turn," the voice says. "To die!"

The wind suddenly picks up as the girl stands her ground, pointing her blade at the creature. Her cries echo as my heart pounds in my chest. Finally finding my voice, I scream at her, "JUST RUN!"

She could still hear the echoing cries when Anali's eyes snapped open. Her heart was beating with a force strong enough to rattle her rib cage. She felt as cold as ice, despite the thick blanket she was currently cocooned in.

After she twisted her arms out of the blanket, Anali sat up in her cot. She was in the room she would share with Sumia and Elaine. The room was fairly standard, four cots, one unoccupied, each cot with a wooden locker for personal belongings, and a chest for clothing. Anali's side of the room looked quite barren and lonely.

That was something Anali could worry about later however. Right now the walls were beginning to close in on her. Her thoughts were running a mile a minute, she needed to get out of here. She needed to calm down.

She untangled her legs from the blanket, then swung them over the edge of her cot. Anali tip-toed across the room, and slipped out the door, careful not to wake Elaine and Sumia. Could she remember the way to the mess hall? Ah, yes. She was pretty sure she could. If she wasn't mistaken, it was just around the corner.

Quietly, and slowly, Anali walked down the darkened halls, silently praying that no one would mistake her intentions for something malicious. Of course, it was probably a bit of a stretch, given that Anali wore nothing but the pink nightgown Sumia lent her, and her smallclothes. If she really had something vicious in mind, surely she would have been properly dressed.

A few minutes later, Anali pulled open the door to the mess hall and slipped inside. Her throat felt parched, like she had been breathing in ashes, and clogged up her windpipe. She needed a good drink of water. So, Anali fixed herself one; it felt cool and liberating as it trickled down her throat. Oh, yes, she _definitely _needed this.

Anali left the mess hall after taking care of the glass, rounding the corner, she came face-to-face with a slightly large man with dark hair. He wore a full suit of armor that, to Anali and her inexperience, appeared to be quite heavy. The man had a round face and looked like he was perpetually squinting. "Anali," the man breathed out. He took a step back, for fear of standing too close. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you…"

Anali arched her brow, why was he talking like he walked in on her? It was not as though Anali was in the middle of something after all. The question was, what was he doing out here? If his armor was anything to go buy, the man could have been on night watch, and _she_ was interrupting _him_.

Anali shook her head, "N-No. It's fine… Kellam?"

"That's me!" he beamed. "That's me… just disappearing in to the background."

Anali was about to argue with that, give him an _'Ah, I wouldn't say that.' _But, really, she couldn't remember if or when Kellam was ever introduced to her. Anali knew his name, so clearly they met at some point, but she couldn't remember _when_ she was told his name.

At an utter lost for words, Anali tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. This was getting awkward. "Are you on night watch?" asked Anali. In hindsight it was a very stupid question. Of course Kellam was on night watch, why else would he be in the halls, alone, in full armor, in the middle of the night?

"Yeah," nodded Kellam, he walked down the hall with Anali at his side. "The cover of night is just about perfect for bandits or Plegian's to strike while everyone's asleep. And there's the creatures from the forest…"

Anali's brow rose, as she nodded in agreement. She supposed that they couldn't be too careful with those creatures. There was no telling what their attack patterns were, or what their goal was. Assuming they even had one. Hell, they didn't even know if they possessed any levels of intelligence.

"So, what about you?" Kellam asked. "I would've thought you'd be taking advantage of a soft bed after everything you've been through."

"Couldn't sleep," Anali replied instantly, it was a bit embarrassing to admit to someone that she was up because of a nightmare. No matter how vaguely she could remember it.

"Bad dreams?" asked Kellam.

She heaved. Was it that obvious? "Yeah. I don't really remember it well enough, though. Just a bit of screaming and fires."

"Nothing else?" the dark haired man asked.

"Everything's hazy," Anali said with a bitter smirk. "One would think I'd have gotten used to it by now. But…"

Kellam looked down at the floor. What an awful position for anyone to be in. Unable to remember anything beyond two days ago. How empty Anali must have felt. Was it lonely to wake up in the middle of the night, without any memories to go back to? No answers to personal questions. He did not every her situation. "Well, you know," Kellam spoke up. "While you're here with us, you might as well try creating new memories."

"Huh?" questioned Anali.

"Maybe you had nightmares because you're trying to remember something. Or, because you're trying to search for something to hold onto. But maybe if you make newer, happier memories, it will help with the nightmares."

Anali bit the inside of her cheek. That was one way of thinking about it. Anali really wasn't quite sure if it would help with her dreams or not; but it did make for a comforting thought. "I haven't thought of it like that," admitted Anali. She gave Kellam a crooked smile. "However, I must point out that it's a 'time-will-tell' sort of thing. It's not like I can have one good day and everything will be okay as I sleep."

Kellan chuckled. "Well, Ylisstol wasn't built in one night."

"I suppose that is true," Anali paused for a moment, her expression drop. "Em… was I supposed to take a turn to get to my room?"

* * *

><p>Anali used her bronze sword to keep herself steady as she tried desperately to catch her breath. Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest, it was a wonder her entire skeleton was not rattling in sync. Her hands were sore, they felt like they were burning, most likely beginning to blister. Sweat was forming on Anali's brow, and the nape of her neck. "I'm dying…" she whined.<p>

"You wouldn't be if you breathed," Fredrick chided. "I don't know if you're doing it intentionally or not, but I've noticed that when you go to strike, you either hold your breath, or you're breathing is shallow. That is an excellent way to find yourself passed out. Now, if you're truly serious about this, we can't have that happen in the middle of battle.

Frustrated, Anali rested the hilt of the sword against her forehead. As both Sully and Fredrick so kindly pointed out to her earlier that morning during breakfast, Anali had a bit of magical skill, but her sword play left much to be desired.

At the time, Anali was sitting in the mess hall, chatting with Lissa. The youngest royal had asked her how her first night in the garrison was. And then Fredrick approached her, suggesting that Anali work on swordplay first today. "It's obvious you've no idea what to do with it," Fredrick said, standing over her as she buttered her second slice of bread. "If I venture a guess, assuming you _have_ been honest with us-"

"Which I _have_," muttered Anali.

"You only had the sword on you in the first place hoping to scare off bandits. Someone's going to need to teach you to wield it properly."

"Are you volunteering, then?" Anali asked with a perked eyebrow.

"I was simply stating-"

"Hey, that's a wonderful idea!" Lissa spoke up with a great enthusiasm. The brown leather corset and her crinoline had long since been put away, leaving Lissa's headdress, yellow dress, and white apron remaining. "Who better to teach her than Chrom's second-in-command?"

"All the more reason to give the task to someone-"

"Fredrick," Lissa said with an exasperated sigh and a roll of the eyes. "You already train every one else in the Shepherds, so what's a little one-on-one?"

Which was why Fredrick was teaching Anali a bit of swordplay while the others sparred off against each other. Technically they were encouraged to try a hand with different weaponry to get a feel for it should they ever need an impromptu weapon, but Fredrick decided Anali needed to focus on her swordsmanship first, then the rest would follow suit.

Anali swallowed, her mouth was uncomfortably dry. She wondered how in Naga's name Fredrick did it. He had to put up just as much of a fight as Anali did, if not more, yet the man hardly broke a sweat! It undoubitly helped that he wasn't wearing the suit of armor, but a white shirt, black tie, and black slacks. It made him look like a butler; this managed to both surprise Anali, but at the same time, it really did not.

She was certain, however, that Fredrick had yet to really let his guard down when he was around Anali. The constant 'what if' hung over his head she was sure. The little Plegian spy out to get the Exalt and her family with a sympathetic amnesia ploy. Fredrick's concerns were nothing short of understandable, and Anali could expect nothing less from a man who took his job as seriously as he did. She just hated the situation. No one hear actually knew Anali before she lost her memory, so there really wasn't a way for her to prove that she wasn't lying.

"While your form needs work, and you need to work on your breathing, I do say you've got the making of a decent swordsman," said Fredrick.

Anali raised an inquisitive eyebrow She failed to see how. Everything Anali did seemed wrong to her. The way she held her sword seemed uncomfortable and wrong. Her thrust seemed awkward. Her stances felt wrong. Of course, Fredrick knew more about all of this than Anali did, so maybe Anali was just over thinking it.

During their second round, Anali found her sword hand cramping, and the skin was as tender as ever. If Anali did not feel like she was holding the hilt wrong before, she definitely felt like she was now. Not when she couldn't find a grip on it without hurting her hand.

Another half-hour passed, and Fredrick dismissed her for the day. Anali sat herself on the grass in the training field, trying to massage her stiff, and sore hands. "Here," Stahl said, handing Anali a round tin.

Curious, she took it into her hand and studied it. "Salve?" she asked.

"Homemade, too."

Silently, Anali removed the lid, and dabbed two fingers into the ointment, gathering a bit onto the tips of her fingers. She applied the salve onto the opposite hand; it felt cool against her warm skin with a slight tingle. When she finished on both hands, Anali handed the tin back to Stahl, who held a hand up. "You keep it," he insisted. "My family sends me plenty."

"Oh, thank you," smiled Anali. She studied the tin again. "Did they make it for you, then?"

Lowering himself down beside her, Stahl nodded. "My father runs an apocathary shop," he explained. "The salves are something of a specialty of his."

"Oh. Were you ever an apprentice, then?"

"I dabbled a bit," shrugged Stahl. Thinking about it now, he was beginning to feel a slight sense of nostalgia. "Just enough to make a couple of tonics and salves. Not enough to have them contribute much, but…"

"Sounds like you and your family are kind of close though," said Anali. He looked up at her with an arch brow. Flinching, Anali's hair nearly stood up on end. "Sorry, should I not have… I-It just sounded like… I-I mean they send you healing ointments, so…"

Despite his shuttering shoulders, Stahl tried not to burst out laughing at that moment. Anali could feel her cheeks beginning to heat up. Okay her little out burst was kind of funny, but still! "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Stahl said, calming down a little. "I shouldn't have…"

Stahl knew full well that he should not have been laughing at her. Anali looked so embarrassed, her eyes narrowed, glancing down at the grass, with a pink blush on her cheeks. But it was kind of funny, in a cute way. Anali wanted to say the right things, to make a good impression. But when she acted like that, she was trying too hard. It made Stahl wonder what her life before Chrom and Lissa found her was like.

Which was probably the biggest reason why he shouldn't have laughed at her like that.

The Shepherds knew about Anali's amnesia. It was brought up when Stahl, Ricken, Elaine, and Sumia were trying to get to know her. They asked pretty basic things, where she was from, what her parents were like, if she had any siblings. And Anali had no answers, as hard as she searched, she didn't have any answers. When she began to search for an answer, Stahl knew something was wrong. And then it looked like she was going to cry.

That was when Lissa explained it to them. How they found Anali in the field, and how Anali could not remember anything from before. Whether or not everyone believed her was an entirely different story. From what Stahl could tell, those who believed her and those who did not were a bit mixed.

Shaking her head, Anali let out a very weak chuckle. "I think my experience with other people has been rather limited," she said. Anali ran her fingers through her bangs, then pushed them back.

"I wouldn't say that," said Stahl. "I'm sure it's just… uhm…"

"Amnesia can only justify so much, Stahl," sighed Anali. "Some of my shortcomings have to be my own regardless, and this one feels like such."

"Well… Yeah, but it seemed rude to say it out loud."

Anali smiled at that. "But," said Stahl. "To answer your question, yes, I'd like to think my family and I are close. My parents send me a bit of salve every so often, and my brother is always sending me a stomach tonic-"

"Oh, you've got a brother?" Anali asked, hugging her knees close to her. Her eyes sparkled with an interest that told Stahl it was okay to talk to her about it.

"Yeah, just one, though," the olive haired man said. "He took up our fathers trade. I imagine he could brew up more than I ever could by now."

"I don't know. I'm sure you could whip up something fierce."

Stahl had to laugh. "Well, my stomach tonic is known for curing tummy aches in fifteen minutes."

Anali smiled, beginning to feel a little at ease around Stahl. As she had observed the day before, it was really easy to like him. He appeared to be a young man who already knew his own strengths and weaknesses, and he was perfectly okay with it. He was a man who was comfortable in his own skin. It felt oddly refreshing to meet someone like that. "Anyway, I wouldn't worry too much about it," Stahl said, almost randomly.

"Huh?" Anali's brow arched.

"Your sword work, I mean. No one who picks up a sword masters it on the first try. Give it a little time, and practice, and I'm sure you'll build your skill up."

She nodded, murmuring, "Okay."

Running a hand through his hair, Stahl clicked his tongue. "So, have you made yourself at home, yet?" he asked her.

Anali's face twisted as she struggled to find the right words. "Kind of," she said. "I mean my side of the room is looking pretty empty, and I'm still meeting everyone in the garrison."

"It can be a little hard at first," Stahl admitted. "When I first became a Shepherd, I certainly felt like a small fish in a big pond."

"But did you get glares and whispers because of the foreign garb you wore?" Anali asked, pulling at a blade of grass.

Stahl had to wince. Of course, there were some whispers from the soldiers about Anali since she first arrived. The coat she wore yesterday when she arrived was the tell all sign of her Plegian origin And then there was the Mark of Grima on her hand. It was not all that surprising that some were beginning to question Chrom's judgment.

The girl with dark grey hair shook her head. "Sorry, that wasn't…" her voice trailed off. "I shouldn't have… That was a little…"

"Why not?" asked Stahl in return. He leaned back, so that he could look at the sky, his hands keeping him from toppling over. "If we're going to get this budding friendship off the ground, we need to start sharing our problems and concerns."

Stahl could see it in Anali's face that she understood, but the situation was just lousy. There was no way to really prove that she had been honest, or that her intentions were good. In the end, Anali would have to earn the trust of those who doubted her the old fashioned way. The hard way.

"Anali!" Sumia called. She approached the pair in a half-jog, then fell when she was a mere few feet away.

Wide eyed and mouth hanging open, Anali pulled herself to her knees, and reached out for Sumia. But the young woman had already pulled herself onto her knees. "I'm fine!" she said all too quickly. Slowly, Sumia pulled herself onto her feet, and took a few deep breaths in. "A-Anyway, Anali, Lissa suggested that we go out to the market in a little while. To… well, get you some clothes, effects, and help you get settled in."

Anali eyed the tunic she wore, it was a bit big on her. To the point where she needed a belt around her waste to keep the excess fabric from flapping about, and exposing her bosom. It was another article borrowed from the stuff to be donated.

"When do we go?" asked Anali.

"As soon as Lissa and Maribelle are ready," replied Sumia.

They left the garrison twenty minutes later. Sumia had asked Elaine, Miriel and Sully if they wanted to come along, Elaine politely said no, as the infirmary was a short handed that day, one of her coworker's children was sick. Miriel was quick to refuse, all while showing off her rather impressive vocabulary. And then there was Sully, who responded with a, "Hell no!"

Sumia sighed as they left the garrison. "I knew shopping wasn't exactly Sully's cup of tea," Sumia explained. "But I thought she would have at least liked to be included."

"Admirable thought, darling," Maribelle said. She had opened her white parasol, and had rested it against her shoulder. "I am sure Sully is grateful for the offer if nothing else."

Sumia's smile brightened. "You think so?"

"Of course, dear."

Was that Maribelle being sincere? Or was that just to make Sumia feel better?

When it seemed like Anali was beginning to throw caution to the wind, and her shyness was beginning to dissipate, she retreated back into her shell. She kept close behind Sumia in the market, with her shoulders hunched, and her hands kept close to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Her hands were covered by a pair of riding gloves, Sumia found for her to borrow. While she appreciated the gesture, now that she was out in public, Anali hoped to find something a bit better in the market. The gloves made picking things up feel awkward. Simply wearing them felt awkward, and made her hands too warm, too fast.

Now that she stood here, in the market of Ylisse's capitol, all Anali could think of was everything that could go wrong. If she loses her gloves, the right one in particular, or if someone could literally _smell_ the Plegian in her.

"First thing's first," Maribelle said, looking Anali over. "I say we find the lady some garments. She simply cannot pull off the 'lets-just-throw-whatever-is-lying-around' look. There is a reason their original owners dismissed them."

"I don't know if I'd say that," said Sumia. "But it would be easier to get that out of the way first."

"All right then!" Lissa said, beaming. "Let's go… This way!"

The blonde princess grabbed Anali by the arm, and pulled her down the road to a shop south-east of the market district. The shop had several displays of lovely dresses one would wear for a sunny day outside. When the girls entered the shop, a woman knelt on the floor beside a mannequin, working diligently on the hem of a white and pink dress. The woman, almost old enough to be their grandmother, looked up, she removed the pins from her mouth.

"Milady," the woman said as she got onto her feet. "Good afternoon. Wonderful to see you again. Lady Alder, Lady Rebeck, pleasure to see you both again as well. How can we help you today?"

"Marina please," Sumia smiled with a light blush on her cheeks. "There's no need to be so formal."

"Well, with _her_, you don't," Maribel added curtly.

"Marina, this is Anali," Lissa said while she shoved the woman in question into Marina's view. Anali could feel her face beginning to turn red, yet again. She tried to hide in the collar of her tunic, but sadly the collar was low. "She's our newest Shepherd. However, she is in need of a new wardrobe, so we were just wondering if there was anything here?"

Marina looked the young woman with dark grey hair. "Anali, yes?" she asked. "Is there any preference you have?"

"Functional," said Anali. "Something that's easy to move around it. I don't want to go tripping over my own hemline."

"Yes, yes," Maribelle said, waving her hand in small circular motions. "Functions are good to have in this line of work, but you should also be presentable. If you ever go out on a march, you will be representing Ylisse's finest. We can't have you look like-like-like some… eh… what's a nicer word than 'tramp?'"

_Gee, thanks… _Anali thought with a dull expression.

However, she had to admit that Maribelle had a point. Especially if Anali ever found herself in an attempt to make allies with neighboring countries.

"However, a lady's clothes should tell the world something about themselves," Maribelle went on as Marina wrote down Anali's preferences on a sheet of paper. "They should say 'I am a proud Ylissean, but I'm also…'" The girl in pink tapped Anali o the top of her head with the parasol. "Now, Anali think. What should your clothes say about you?"

"'I'm not naked,'" Anali said dully in response.

Lissa broke out into a loud, snorty fit of laughter that defiantly sounded very un-princess like. Sumia was making more of an effort to keep herself under control. But, even then her shoulders were visibly shaking. Maribelle's jaw dropped as she stared at Anali. Had Anali truly just said such a thing out loud… _in public?!_

"What?" Anali asked with a shrug. "Seriously, what? What else are clothes supposed to say?"

Lissa's laughed doubled to the point that other seamstresses had stopped what they were doing to stare. Was that last one really that funny? Sumia, still keeping herself in control, tapped her chin. "How about 'I'm an enigma?'" she suggested. "All things considered, it is kind of appropriate."

Anali nodded absently. She did not know much about herself, so she did not know what her clothes should 'say' about her. The concept of clothes 'saying' something about the person wearing them seemed utterly stupid. As long as she was presentable, the clothes were functional, and comfortable, and Anali was not parading around naked, she was pretty okay with anything.

Why did it suddenly seem like getting clothes was much harder than Anali originally thought?

"Perhaps something dark then?" Marina suggested. She looked Anali over again. "Yes, something dark would look lovely with your hair." Marina looked over her shoulder then called out, "Portia!"

Obediently, a young woman with auburn hair pulled back into a high ponytail was at Marina's side. "Yes, ma'am?" asked Portia.

"I want you to take Lady Anali's measurements, and help her find garments fitting her criteria."

Murmuring a yes, Portia gestured for Anali to follow her. And she did, if not a little reluctantly, mostly because of the push from Lissa. Portia measured Anali's bust, waist, and collar; she felt uncomfortable throughout the entire process. After it was done, much to Anali's relief, Portia lead her to a collection of pre-made garments in Anali's size, and a changing stall in the back of the shop.

Lissa was the one providing money for everything, despite Anali's protest. She insisted that the royals had done more than enough for her. Anali could have waited a couple of weeks and saver her weekly pay, then she could shop for clothes and effects. But her protest had fallen upon death ears. Anali did not like this, constantly taking from Chrom and Lissa. It made her feel like she owed them something in return. But what could she give in return to the royal family?

Sumia's input was a real help as Anali tried on several different garments, until Anali found something she liked the most, and requested several pairs made. And then there was the dress Sumia really pushed for Anali to buy. It was a pretty pale blue thing with white sheerer sleeves, and an off white sash around the waste. Pretty, yet not too glamorous. Until Anali saw the price. "That is two suns too many," Anali said in a hushed tone. "What on earth would I need this for, anyway?"

"Off the top of my head… don't know," Sumia shrugged. "But, still, it'd be nice to know you have a nice dress if you ever find yourself attending a formal occasion." A giddy grin happened upon her face. "_Or_ when you're faced with a whole line of suitors."

Anali's face flushed scarlet. "I-I think I should work on getting comfortable in my own skin before I start thinking about romance and courtship!" Anali argued, holding her hands up in protest. "B-B-Besides, what do I need a _line_ of suitors for?! Don't most people just want _one_?"

"Hmm, I suppose," Sumia nodded absently. She pulled another dress off the rack. "Yes, I guess a line of suitors is a bit much. Just one will do, given it's the right one."

Anali understood that Sumia was simply being friendly with a little girl talk as though Anali wasn't wandering around with a head as empty as a flower pot. And she really appreciated it, but Anali could hardly tell a person what she liked, or disliked, or even where she saw herself a few years down the road. Anali needed to get to know herself first, before getting to know a potential suitor was even an option.

"How about this?" Sumia held the dress up in front of her. It was pale pink with a lacy outter laired rose skirt, with matching shoulder length sleeves. "I'll buy this, if you buy that."

"Or you could just buy it regardless of what I buy?" Anali suggested with a weak grin.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

Somehow, in the end, Anali ended up buying the dress, and the ladies left the shop each of them making some form of purchase. Anali bought enough clothes to last her a week, a spare for her laundry days, her own nightwear, and the dress. Anali hugged her collection of parcels close to her chest as Sumia listed off a few more things Anali would need. "Should we bother with armor right now?" she asked Lissa.

"Of course," said Lissa. "We want Anali to be ready when Chrom asks her to march."

"Huh? But Lissa, Anali just came in yesterday."

"And my swordplay still needs work," added Anali.

"But you're magic is pretty dang decent," argued Lissa. "And she's got tactical skills to boot!"

Glancing down, Anali hugged her parcels closer. "I did not do anything spectacular," she murmured. "Oh. But I could use more tomes, the one I had on me is beginning to run low on pages."

"Tomes?" Maribelle repeated. She pointed to a small tent a few yards away. "Over there, I think."

It was an open tent that had an assortment of goods from neighboring countries. At least, according to Maribelle they were, or at least some of them were. When they entered the tent, she looked uninterested, until she spotted a paper fan, and unfolded it. She was greeted with pastel flowers and green leaves against a gold background. "Must be Valmese," Maribelle murmured to herself. "Looks quite expensive, actually."

"Oh, it was. I had to trade a whole case of Sweet Tincture to one of my sisters for this one."

A woman with dark red hair poked her head up from the cases of elixir she was stacking. Her long, red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she wore very comfortable clothing, fit for travel, in earthy colors. "Anything I can help you with, ladies?" asked the merchant.

"We wanted to see if you were carrying any tomes," said Sumia.

"Right over there," the merchant pointed at a large crate filled with books with spines of light green, yellow, and red. "Hot off the press."

Crouching down in front of the crate, Anali slowly ran her finger down one of the spines until she picked up a couple of yellow Thunder tomes. "Do the mages usually specialize in one element?" Anali asked, taking two tomes into her arms.

Lissa thought about it for a moment, her face twisting as she thought. "I can't say it's unheard of," she said. "But there is a bit of convenience of using Wind and Fire. But, you'd have to ask Miriel or Ricken, they would know more about magic than any of us."

"Oh, this is quaint," Sumia said, beaming. She stood in front of one of the tables, littered with items from across the world.

The item Sumia was looking at was a peculiar doll that popped open from it's middle. Inside there was another little doll paintedd slightly differently, and inside was another, and another, until there was a teeny tiny thing inside. The hollow dolls were all beautifully painted to resemble an old woman, as you opened one doll to reveal another the woman got younger and younger.

"That would be a nesting doll from Regna Ferox," the merchant explained. "Quite the conversation piece if you ask me."

"Oh, it is, isn't it?" Sumia agreed with a large smile. Slowly, her smile died as she placed the nesting doll back where she found it. "But, I don't have the space for it."

"It's because of all your books, darling," Maribelle quipped with a slight sigh. She still held onto the paper fan, most likely looking to buy it. Her dark pink eyes glanced at Anali who was now looking at a collection of books the merchant had. Maribelle sighed. "And it looks like Anali hear is headed down the same path as our dear Sumia."

"What? N-No!" Anali straightened up. "I-I just like to read, is all… At-At least, I _think_ I do. I-I mean-"

"I was just making a joke," sighed Maribelle, her tone utterly droll and bored. "You don't need to defend your actions, _especially_ if they're harmless."

"S-Sorry…" Anali said, trying to shrink once more.

"Sounds like someone ought to get out more," the merchant chuckled.

"I'm not quite sure that's it," mumbled Maribelle. She turned to the merchant, holding up the fan. "I suppose I'll be taking this, my good ma'am."

"Ooh, good choice! That'll be five moons."

"Five?!" the blonde young woman repeated. Regardless she fished out five silver coins from her purse.

"Excuse me," Anali spoke up. She carried an object, a little bigger than her palm, with several holes in it, and a mouth piece sticking out. "Can you tell me what this is? I think I've seen it before, but the name escapes me."

The merchant held her hand out to Anali, Anali placed the object into her waiting palm. The red haired woman studied it for a moment. "Oh, yes, of course!" she said to herself. "It's an ocarina. It's a kind of flute." She pointed to the mouth piece. "Obviously you put your mouth here, blow, and cover these little holes to make music."

"It looks familiar," Anali said, taking the instrument back.

"Maybe you've played, then?" suggested Sumia.

Anali removed the glove from her left hand to get a better feel for the instrument. It did feel familiar in her hand, so it was possible that maybe she did play before. "I guess I'll take this, too," Anali said, placing the ocarina on top of the yellow tomes.

* * *

><p>Night at the garrison was quite still, a few soldiers were stationed inside and outside to keep watch. By the time Chrom found a few minutes in the day to visit, he was sure most of the inhabitants were sound asleep, so this may have been pointless. But, the way he saw it, he owed it to Anali to see how her first day here was.<p>

By offering her a position in the Shepherds, there was a very high chance that Anali would be dragged into the battles that were sure to come. He could not really blame her if the first thing she wanted to do was find herself. While Anali did have a choice whether or not she wanted to stay or leave, what choice did she have? Really, where could a woman without any knowledge of herself really do?

The last Chrom heard of Anali, she was bunking with Sumia and Elaine. That made him smile, they would make Anali feel at home. Now, where did they sleep again? Oh, right.

He came to a door where, on the other side, Chrom could hear giggles, and… music? Yes, music it came from a flute. The tune itself was quite breezy, bubbly even, it was a tune that easily conjured the image of children frolicking in the meadow. The song ended with a deep inhale from the musician. "Wow, Anali," he heard Elaine say as she clapped her hands. "I had no idea you could play."

"Neither did I," said Anali. "I'm not even sure where I heard that song. It just sort of came to me."

"Then it'd stand to reason that you've played it plenty of times before you came here, yes?" asked Sumia. "This has to be a good sign, then!"

"Yeah, I guess…" Anali said, she didn't sound convinced. And Chrom decided now was the time to make his presence known.

He opened the door. "Ladies," said Chrom. "Don't mind me, I was just wonder if - Oh, gods, I'm sorry!"

All three were dressed in their nightgowns, appropriately enough, they were surely getting ready for a goodnights rest. Sumia was the only one of the three to look remotely embarrassed. Well her and Chrom, that is. He closed the door slightly, trying to hide is own reddened face. "Sorry, sorry," Chrom repeated. "I was, just… Can I speak with you, Anali?"

"Oh, sure," the dark haired woman said. He heard her shift in her cot. She opened the door, and stepped out, still wearing her dark nightgown. "Is something wrong?"

She looked different than when Chrom had last seen her, healthier, well rested. Her hair no longer looked stringy, or filthy. The dirt and grime was cleaned from her skin, and she did not look as tired as she did yesterday. "Nothing's wrong," Chrom assured her. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Anali smiled. "I'm doing fine so far," she said. "Training this morning wasn't quite what I was expecting, but then again, I really didn't know what I was expecting."

"Yeah, Fredrick can be a bit hard on new recruits," chuckled Chrom.

"But I think I can survive," said Anali. "I'm… relieved that I have some sort of direction, I suppose. If anyone else had found me-"

"It's probably best not to think about what could have been," Chrom cut her off. "Or what was. Think about the now, and I'm sure everything else will fall into place."

There was probably something better Chrom could have said to her if he wanted to be encouraging. Words, particularly when it came to heart-to-hearts like this, were never Chrom's strongest suits, that was Emmeryn's expertise. And, he was sure, the last thing Anali needed was to be reminded of her lack of memories. But what else could he say to something like that?

Anali just nodded in response. "Thank you, though," said Anali, she began to fiddle with her fingers, her gaze was locked onto the floor. "I know you just said not to think about it, but I doubt I'd have this sort of security if anyone else had found me."

"You don't need to thank me Anali. It was a pleasure to help."

"Even if they were right?" Anali asked in reply. "Even if I really was planning to kill your sister, or even you?"

"Well I would hope that's not the case," laughed Chrom.

"I'm serious!" snapped Anali. "What if Fredrick or Vaike are right about me?"

Vaike, of course. As far as he knew, Vaike did have a bit of an outburst when he met Anali. Chrom understood why, but it really seemed out of character for him. "But they're not," Chrom replied.

Anali let out a dry laugh, unsure of whether or not it was out of the absurdity of Chrom's words. "Lets…" Anali thought for a moment, then shook her head again. "Let's hope you can recognize danger when you see it, then."

"Well," the prince couldn't help but smirk. "In spite of popular belief amongst the Shepherds, I'm not that oblivious."

Of course, he had been wrong before.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> This was pretty much _**Friendship Moments; The Chapter**_. Some moments, particularly Stahl's, did come from some of his support conversations. And Kellam… I actually did forget about him when I wrote the first draft of Chapter Two! Ugh! Don't look at me! Don't look at me! Buuut, I found that it kinda worked out. And I'm gonna admit it, the only reason I included Maribelle was so I could have the _'I'm not naked'_ moment. Don't look at me!

Reminder about my tumblr blog **sammiewritesstuff**, where I'll be happy to answer any question, and eventually post tidbits, updates, and other goodies.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four  
><strong>**Sickle to Sword**

A full three weeks passed since Anali was first brought to the garrison. Within days she entered a daily routine; mornings were started with a warm-up (usually stretching, and a run around the training yard), then sword work with Fredrick. And then, just before or after lunch Anali would try her hands at other weaponry with Stahl and Kellam. If she could help it, Anali tried to squeeze in a bit of magic practice. Her afternoons were spent here and there, either in the stables helping Sumia care for the Shepherds horses and pegasi, or reading in either the library or her quarters.

In the library, she would read up on magic and battle strategy, figuring she and the others could stay alive if she understood battle flow. That, and the fact that Anali found past war strategies to be very fascinating. Battles that were won against all odds were her favorite.

However, Anali still go at little fidgety and nervous when she first found the library. While it was open to anyone, Anali usually found Miriel there, her nose buried deep in her book while she muttered away under her breath. Anali left her alone to do her own thing, just about everyone else did.

At the end of her first week, however, Anali found someone new in the library. It was a young man with long, blonde hair tied back into a low braid. He was dressed an off-white and light green tunic, with off-white slacks. At the moment, the man was sound asleep on one of the tables, using a small stack of parchment as a pillow. Clearly, he had been working on something before he dozed off.

Anali gripped her chin wondering who he was. She was pretty sure she had seen him somewhere, but she wasn't quite sure where. Possibly in the mess hall. What should she do? Should she just leave him sleeping there and go about her business? It certainly seemed like the obvious thing to do.

Anali tried to tiptoe around the library, but it seemed like that only succeeded in making the floor creak. She tried to ignore the creaking, and the man as best as possible. Now, where was that book she was reading yesterday?

"So you're the Plegian Chrom brought in?" Immediately, Anali felt a chill run up her spine and her hair stood up on end. "Must be really something else for him to make you a Shepherd."

Slowly, Anali turned her head around so that she could look over her shoulder. The man had his head lifted up from the table, his arms were still on the flat surface. His tired eyes were a light shade of brown, his long bangs framed his heart-shaped face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…" Anali's voice trailed off. She cleared her throat. "I-I'm-"

"I know who you are," the man said, sitting himself back up, revealing a small stack of parchment that he used for a pillow. "I was there when Lissa brought you into the garrison."

Wait, was he really? Anali did not remember. But, then again, she did not remember her introduction to Kellam. "Sorry," she said. "I don't remember-"

"That's because I never introduced myself," the man said, collecting his papers, quill and inkwell. "I'm usually not one for introductions. _Or_ people."

"So I won't be learning your name, then?" asked Anali. She retracted back, she shouldn't have been so straight foreword just then. "I'm sorry, it's just, if we're going to be working on the same team, I just figured-"

"Stop talking," the man cut her off. He placed his belongings into his satchel. "There is no point in delaying it, I suppose. I know for a fact that if we are ever in battle together, I do not want to be called 'you.'"

He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked pass Anali. "You may call me Liam."

"Nice meeting you," she called. "Liam."

Liam did not answer. Anali's shoulder shook as she shuttered. _What a cheery guy._

At supper that evening Anali explained what happened in the library to Elaine, and her friend Regan. Regan was a sixteen-year-old trainee in the Pegasus Knights. She had a petite built to her, her red-gold hair was cut into a pageboy style. "That's just Liam," said Regan with a wave of her hand. "He doesn't get along with people period, so it's not you personally. Ironic, really, his whole purpose is to boost morale. But he's got a gift for sucking all the joy out of the room."

"I like the silent stoic type," said Elaine. With her fist balled up, she tapped her knuckles together three times. "I think it makes him mysterious and dreamy…"

Anali could not help but roll her eyes. She had knew Elaine to be a well-mannered, down to earth kind of girl. It seemed a little out of character for her to get boy-crazy. "More like, 'I think it makes him too old,'' said Anali. "He looks like he's almost thirty. How old are you again? Ten?"

"Sixteen!" Elaine snapped with her nose in the air. "And what's wrong with looking for a good suitor now, anyway?"

"Oh, here we go," Regan rolled her eyes. She tapped Elaine on the back of her head. "The reason we shouldn't be looking for suitors now, is because we're still, technically, students. And, while Liam has never done anything too heinous, and regardless of his age, I don't see him as suitor material. I don't even think he sees himself as such."

"I can dream, can't I?" sighed Elaine.

Regan sighed, then glanced back at Anali. "Anyway, I wouldn't worry about Liam that much, Anali," she said. "That's just how he is, cold shoulder and all."

Perhaps Anali was being a little paranoid when she doubted Regan's words. Maybe Liam really was just a bit misanthropic. But, for every friendly character Anali met in Ylisstol, there was always someone who was cold and distrustful close behind them. She wanted to think, as time passed, that things would get reasonably comfortable. That not everyone was expecting her to just blow up the palace and the capital city any day now.

But how was Anali supposed to show them that she was a not a threat if they did not give her the chance? Anali had not spoken to Vaike since that first day, Sully's less than subtle warning was not forgotten, and Liam looked like he couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough. Fredrick and Phila were still watching her like she was some poisonous insect that needed to be squashed. And she was pretty sure there were some soldier's that turned head whenever Anali walked by.

Time passed, and Anali continued training one-on-one with Fredrick. According to him, her improvement was nothing short of remarkable. Perhaps Anali really did study swordplay a bit before her memory loss? It was possible, but Anali really had no way of knowing. But, by the end of the week, Anali was actually deemed ready to begin sparring with the other Shepherds.

On the morning of her third Wednesday at the garrison, Anali collided swords with Stahl, her sparring partner of the day. She made sure to not stay in one spot for too long. That was something Fredrick drilled into her (besides _breathe, woman, breathe!_); don't stop moving. "What you lack in strength," Fredrick told her. "You make up for in speed. You're clever enough to use that to your advantage, are you not?"

"Well, I'd like to think so," Anali replied.

Of course, that had really yet to be seen, as it did not quite matter who won or lost in a sparring match.

Anali kept her feet moving during her match with Stahl. Her eyes locked on him, trying to find the flaw in his style. While the only time she had seen Stahl in battle was in their sparring matches, he explained to her that in a real life or death battle Stahl would be mounted on his horse in a full suit of armor. Not unlike Fredrick or Sully.

So, in a proper battle Stahl would have a height advantage against someone on foot. His mid-section must have been well protected with his armor on. Anali's brow nearly rose when it dawned on her. That was it, that was what she was looking for.

She tightened her grip on her sword, and thrusted herself forward. The sword collided with Stahl's, who immediately blocked, then counter attacked with a downward strike. Anali dodged by leaping to the side, then threw her arm forward, right towards Stahl's midsection. He turned forwards back, and swung his own sword, aimed at Anali's side.

Anali blocked, but it did not put enough space between her and Stahl's sword hand. Her forefinger ended up getting nicked; it stung, possibly bleeding but Anali would put some vulnerary on it later. She pushed the opposing blade away from her, then swung it at Stahl's side. Things were beginning to pick up. Anali was no longer playing defense, and was fighting back with vigor. Blades sailed through the air, then collided with an audible _CLINK_.

She lifted her sword for a downward strike, Stahl prepared to block. At the last second, Anali changed her swords path. She took a step back to give herself more space, then she thrusted her sword forward, stopping just inches way from Stahl's solar plexus; had this been a real fight, he would have been impaled completely. "I believe that counts as a yield," Fredrick said, suddenly walking up to the pair. "I must admit, Anali, you're improvement is remarkable."

"Thank you," Anali said, sheathing her sword. It wasn't often that Fredrick complimented her like this. Maybe it was a sign that things were improving between them.

"However," Fredrick continued, without missing a beat. "Your breathing still needs work, and you need to work on your blocking, or else you _will_ loose a finger."

Easy come, easy go.

"Aw, come on, Fredrick," said Stahl. "Regardless, Anali didn't do that bad for someone who only had three weeks t-"

"_You_," Fredrick's attention turned to Stahl. "You could do to watch your mid-section with your armor on. That was how Anali got the better of you. Just because you're mounted, and armored does not give you the excuse to be careless."

Chuckling weakly, Stahl rubbed the back of his neck. "Stern as always, Fredrick," sighed Anali.

"Quite so," Chrom agreed. He walked up to the three. "In all the years I've known him, Fredrick only smiles when he's about to bring down the axe."

"Milord," greeted Fredrick. "Is there something-"

"Peace, Fredrick. Am I not allowed to drop in to see the militia I lead?"

"Of course not, milord, that's not to imply-"

Fredrick was cut off abruptly by the snickering from Stahl and Anali. The two were turn towards each other, Anali with her hand balled up in front of her mouth to hide her grin. Stahl, on the other hand, had a tooth-bearing, lopsided grin.

The brown haired man cleared his throat, and immediately the two straightened themselves up as though they were standing like that the entire time. "Well, as you can see, these two could stand to fetch some _buckets of water_," Fredrick said coolly, and Anali was nearly floored.

Standing still for ten minutes while holding a bucket of water in each hand was a favorite punishment of Fredrick's. However, Anali mostly saw it happen to Vaike, who had a bit of a habit of forgetting his weapon. Of course, it wasn't exactly just as a means of discipline, water buckets were heavy, therefore a great heavy lifting exercise for Fredrick's Fanatical Fitness Hour; giving 'fanatical' a whole new meaning.

Which could almost be the slogan.

"Aw, come now, Fredrick," Chrom teased. "Wasn't I just hearing you compliment Anali's improvement?"

"Yes, you were, milord," said Fredrick. "But she's nowhere near ready to take on a master swordsman."

"Well, not with strength alone," Stahl pointed out. "Give her a minute to size up her opponent and Anali's sure to tip the scales."

"Ah-ha…" Anali chuckled weakly. She rubbed the back of her neck while she looked down at the ground, her cheeks started to turn pink. "I needed more than a minute with you, I'm sure."

Chrom laughed at this. "That may be, but you quickly turned it around."

"Are we sure you haven't studied before hand, Anali?" Stahl asked her.

She nodded. "A couple of times I've seen or done things that _felt_ familiar, like when I first used magic that day in Southtown, and with my ocarina," explained Anali. "I've never experienced that with a sword in hand."

"Still, three weeks and you're besting someone who's done this for a few years is no easy feat."

"At this rate, Anali," said Chrom. "You'll be fighting beside us for Ylisse."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," mumbled Anali. "There hasn't been any trouble since I was first brought in, so there's not telling if-"

"Milord! Sir Fredrick!" someone called.

It was Elaine, the skirt of her green dress was hiked up, as she ran up to them. Skidding to a stop, Elaine was bent over double, her hands on her knees; she panted, trying to catch her breath. Swallowing, she stood up, and gripped the white apron on her dress. "Lady Phila received a messenger hawk from the Farfort," she explained. "She wishes to discuss it with the both of you."

"All right, thank you Elaine," Fredrick said with a nod of the head. "Milord-"

"Yes, Fredrick, I heard," said Chrom. He turned back to Anali. "I suppose we'll discuss your progress a little later, then."

"Guess so," she said. When both Chrom and Fredrick were out of earshot, she asked, "What's the Farfort?"

"A farming village in the southeast," Stahl explained. He seated himself onto the ground, beside Elaine. "Exalt Calhoun had it built about fifteen years ago for other purposes, but by the time it was finished it was no longer needed."

"But it was built on a prime spot for agriculture, and livestock. So…" Elaine shrugged. "Farmers it is. I've never been there myself, but I hear it's a pretty quiet place. I can't imagine what's happened there."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," said Anali.

"I don't know," sighed Stahl. He leaned back with his hands firmly planted on the ground to keep himself from toppling over. "See, it's on a small island a few miles away from the mainlands. The messenger hawk wouldn't be sent unless there was an emergency."

Anali gazed up at the palace with a furrowed brow. Since she arrived at the garrison they had a name for the creatures that attacked them; Risen. There was still plenty about them that they did not know, and many rumors filled Ylisstol's daily gossip. If there were problems in the Farfort, just going by what Anali was now finding out about this place, Risen seemed appeared to be the most likely candidate.

As the next couple of hours ticked by Anali heard several rumors about what had happened in the Farfort; Risen, bandits, Plegians, and the like. It was not until a while after lunch when Chrom returned to the garrison, with an armored Fredrick. At the time, Anali sat with Sully, Sumia, Stahl and Kellam in the mess hall as the four recounted stories about their early days with the Shepherds. "And then bam! Down goes Sumia, and ten historical suits of armor and weaponry," Sully said, finishing her story.

"No!" Anali gaped, trying to keep herself from laughing. She looked Sumia in the face, the poor girl was turning beat red. "Really?"

"Sumia, in all the time I've known you I know you have two left feet," said Kellam. "But, really?"

"It was an accident!" said Sumia. She tried to hide her reddened face despite laughing at her own expense.

At that Stahl nearly fell out of his seat laughing while Kellam tried to keep himself under control. Anali found herself somewhere in between. It was easy for her to picture Sumia tripping over her own feet and taking a bit of Ylisse history with her. But how mortified poor Sumia must have been at the time.

"Can we simmer down, please!" Fredrick said with a firm, commanding tone. Silence fell upon the mess hall within a matter of seconds. "Thank you."

Anali, who hadn't notice Fredrick or Chrom enter the mess hall, kept her eyes up front. She knew that it must have had something to do with the messenger hawk, and her stomach nearly dropped. "Late this morning, we received a messenger hawk from the Farfort," Chrom explained. "It would appear that earlier this week a group of bandits captured the fort."

Murmurs erupted in the mess hall. It was just bandits, right? At least it wasn't Risen. Fredrick silenced the Shepherds all at once, allowing Chrom to continue. "I want seven volunteers, once we've got that sorted, we'll be marching out within the hour."

"The Vaike's ready to go now!" Vaike exclaimed rising to his feet.

"Good," said Fredrick. "Anyone else."

"Hell, ya I'm doing this," said Sully. "Haven't had any action in ages."

"Me too," Stahl and Kellam said in unison.

That was already four, five assuming Fredrick was going to. But, given that he was already in full armor, Anali did not doubt that was the case. With her nose firmly in her book, Miriel stood up with a hand raised, making her volunteer number six.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Anali took a deep breath. She stood up before she slowly opened her eyes. Sumia looked back at her with a raised brow, undoubibly surprised by Anali's choice. She looked forward to find a smiling Chrom. It made her wonder what would have happened if Anali did not volunteer. "You have an hour to gather your effects," announced Fredrick. "After that, we will be marching to the Farfort with or without you."

* * *

><p>As Fredrick had promised, they left an hour later on the dot. It felt little odd to see those Anali was willing to call her friends and comrades on their effects. But, then again, Anali probably did look a little odd, too. This was the first time she actually wore her armor.<p>

She wore a dark, sleeveless tunic with a blue-grey lining down the center, with a high neck. The tunic had come with a pair of sleeves that had two layers to them. The inner layer was a skin tight purple sleeve that was long enough to cover the back of her hands. Then, the outer layer was a dark colored fabric that belled out the closer it got to the wrists. Her hair was done up in a pair of pigtails, with one lock always finding a way over Anali's shoulder.

Sumia had helped Anali put on her breastplate, one with a high enough collar to help keep her throat safe, and low enough to protect part of her solar plexus. Sumia looked Anali over, and had to critique the way Anali put on her belts. "It's too loose!" Sumia chided, lightly smacking Anali on the shoulder. "You'll loose your sword, and tome like that."

And then Anali's face turned red when Sumia tightened them both for her. Along with her sword in it's scabbard, Anali had gotten a sort of sling to carry her tome in. It was easy to reach when she needed to use a little magic. "Now, be careful out there," said Sumia. "I want to see you home in one piece, okay?"

"I will," Anali replied with an awkward smile. "Try not to cause too much trouble while we're gone."

"Very funny," smiled Sumia.

By mid afternoon they reached the docks, from there, they would sail out for the next few hours. Their vessel was relatively small compared to other countries, it was mostly used for importing goods to the fort. However it was the most they could do for transportation, as Ylisse hadn't had a navel fleet in fifteen years.

Vaike leaned against the starboard side of the vessel, his elbows leaned over the railing, and his eyes locked on the Plegian woman. Ever since Lissa first brought her in, and Vaike's initial outburst at seeing her mark, Lissa had given him a stern warning, mostly over the fact that he actually _grabbed_ her. "Look, I'm not going to force you to like her," Lissa told him when the two stood alone in the hallway. "But none of us approve of attacking a fellow Shepherd when we're not training."

What where they thinking?! What possessed Chrom to think it was a good idea to bring in some Plegian trash and expect Vaike to work with her? She wasn't just some Plegian either, she was one of the Grimleal. She was a follower of the fell dragon Grima! The very dragon that tried to wipe out humanity!

Okay, yes, this one woman couldn't be held personally responsible for the events during the war, but her father could have very well been apart of the Plegian armies. Her kind could have been responsible for the deaths of many Ylissean men, women, and children. The war left a lot of street orphans in its wake, and only a handful of them could find themselves lucky enough to have a secure future.

Besides, she could have been amongst those responsible for Ylisse's problems _now_.

"Keep glaring like that, and I'm sure you'll wear a hole into the frame," Chrom said, suddenly at Vaike's side. When did he get there?

"I'm not glaring," Vaike mumbled, his eyes locked on the ship deck.

"Of course not," Chrom said, leaning against the railing with his arms cross over his arms. "You were just staring at Anali really hard."

He peered back at the woman, she was crouched down on the deck, leaning against the bow, and clutching her stomach, her eyes squeezed shut as she breathed in and out. Her face looked a little green. At Vaike's side, Chrom sighed. "I'm sorry," said Chrom. "But I would've thought you were above this sort of thing."

"Excuse me?" Vaike said, trying not to sound _too_ offended.

"You and Anali," Chrom explained. "The hostility. I would have thought you'd be a little more welcoming of her."

"You mean like how I would have thought you could see through a Plegian's trap?" Vaike countered.

While he couldn't blame his Captain, and rival for not understand the life he and the other street urchins had growing up. But, Chrom had to have known better than to trust some Plegian whore. Especially when one considered the events that lead up to their first meeting. "I mean, think about it," Vaike said before Chrom could argue with him. "You leave Elrond, _after _Plegians attacked the village, then find a Plegian woman, on the ground, covered in blood. There was only one death in Elrond, right? And you find a woman covered in blood?"

Chrom forced himself to look away. He understood full well what Vaike was suggesting, but the idea sounded so preposterous. Anali murdering a woman, a performer? Besides, if Anali was there in Elrond, why was she in the field like that? Why would she run instead of following her superior? Some things didn't quite add up.

"I'm not the only one thinking' it," Vaike added. "I'd bet every sun I have to my name that Fredrick, and Phila made the connection already."

"I don't believe Anali could have done that, Vaike," Chrom said calmly. "That's just not in her character."

Vaike could hardly resist the urge to roll his eyes. Partially because Chrom was being both stupid and ridiculous, and partially because it was typical Prince Chrom. He swore the history books would know him as Prince Chrom the Trusting, or the aptly put, Prince Chrom the Gullible. "I swear, man," Vaike sighed, turning himself around to look at the horizon. "You are far too trusting. You're going to let your death waltz right in."

"Please," sighed Chrom. "I'm not _that_ oblivious."

When they docked, Fredrick lead the campaign down the dirt trail. Anali road on horseback with Kellam, and tried desperately not to fall over as she looked around. She spent the first fifteen minutes or so gawking at the scenery, but then night was starting to fall, soon enough, the stars were shining, and the fireflies were out.

All that was heard was the _clop, clop, clop_ of the horses, and the chirping of birds and insects. It was a calm night, almost ideal for a campout, if it wasn't so chilly. There were a few murmurs from the Shepherds, but no one was making conversation, which was probably for the best.

They were, according to Fredrick, a good two miles away from the Farfort when there was a sudden rustling from the grass. Chrom pulled back on his horses reigns and held up one hand, signally for everyone to hold fire. The rustling grew louder and louder as a silhouette could be seen in the near distance. The figure barreled out of the woods revealing to be a boy, no older than fifteen.

Panic was written on his tanned face as he stumbled over his feet. He had on a copper pot on his head as a makeshift helmet, but one could still make out unruly brown hair underneath. "Halp!" the boy exclaimed as he fell over onto his knees. "You gots to help us!"

"Easy lad," Chrom said, dismounting his horse. "Slow down. You're from the Farfort, yes?"

"Y-Yes, milord!" the boy blurted out as he rose to his feet. "That would be correct Your Graciousness."

"Perhaps we should hold off on the titles for now," quipped Fredrick. "Why don't we start with your name, my boy."

"Donny!" the boy introduced with a great heap of enthusiasm. He cleared his throat and said, much calmer the second time around. "Er, that is, Donnel."

"All right… Donnel. Can you tell us what happened?"

"Those rotten-toothed, pig-stinkin' dastards just ransacked and attacked us in the middle of the night!" Donnel explained. "Took the fort 'bout a week ago and started takein' all we've got for food, belongin's and… other things. Keepin' us locked into the fort, not letting' us work on our crops, and suckin' us dry of everything we gots."

"Sounds like we got here in time then," murmured Kellam.

"Barely," Stahl added.

"I'm the only one who got away," continued Donnel. "And even then just barely. They started roundin' up the local maidens to haul 'em off…"

Donnel's voice wavered. His gaze fell upon the ground as his hands tightened into fits. His shoulder's began to shake, and it was clear on Donnel's face that he was trying so very hard not to start crying right then and there. Shaking his head, Donnel quickly wiped his eyes. "Please, sir!" the boy pleated, looking up at Chrom. "You gots to save them folks! My ma's one of 'em and… She's all I got in this world!"

"Don't worry, Donny," Chrom said, clapping the boy on the shoulder. "We'll save your ma. How much farther is it to the fort from here?"

"'Bout a mile, milord. But they've gots the draw bridge guarded all hours of the day. I was hearin' there archer's accuracy's somethin' to be reckoned with."

"Ah, great!" growled Vaike. "The _one time _we could've used Virion and we left him back and Ylisstol."

"It would not matter," Miriel said, adjusting her glasses. "He would've surely been outnumbered, and the bandits would still have the home field advantage."

"Perhaps we should send for reinforcements, milord," suggested Fredrick. "We should be able to overpower them easily with vast numbers."

"But by then it might be too late for the village women," Stahl pointed out. "Maybe we could just find another way in."

"Hey, if you're volunteering, I don't mind," said Vaike.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It mean's I'm not getting an arrow in my ass."

"Well I don't see you coming up with any better ideas!" Sully snapped.

"We could always wait for the archer's to change shifts…" Kellam suggested weakly. "Just a thought…

"Neither are you!" Vaike shouted at Sully. He gestured to Miriel. "If you want bright ideas, why not turn to our resident egghead!"

"Please don't drag me into this childish feud," Miriel sighed with a roll of her eyes.

"All right, all right!" Chrom called, raising one hand into the air. "If we start arguing amongst ourselves now we'll never be able to-"

His pleas fell upon death ears. Voices began to morph into one shouting different ideas all at once, and shouting at the others to come up with something better. If they didn't have archers themselves, they could use magic. But they were still too high up. Well maybe they could sneak in through the front. Well, if it was that easy then they would have found more people than just Donnel. Then they should send for more men, or at least a few Pegasus Knights. By the time they get here it could be far too late for the women, and who knew what they had planed for them afterwards.

Anali stared, dumbfounded and confused. Please, please, say that they were not always like this. This arguing amongst themselves was wasting just as much time as sending for more help. Perhaps they did need more men, but Anali could understand why they went with eight units, it drew in less attention.

Okay… okay, there was a way to siege the fort with small numbers, they just needed to think about it. Walking away from the group, Anali pulled off a thin twig from a nearby tree. She plucked off the leaves, then crouched down and drew a rectangle into the dirt. "Donny," Anali called over her shoulder. The village boy looked just as confused, and possibly more frustrated, than Anali had not even a minute ago. "Can you help me map out the fort? I don't think I've ever been there before."

"Well, sure," Donnel said. He crouched down beside Anali. He took the twig from her and began to draw a few more shapes inside the rectangle for the homes, barns, shops, and other buildings. He finished by circling two corners of the rectangle, and a third one in between the two. "They've got guards posted right here. And…"

He drew a fourth circle, off centre in the heart of the fort. "That's where they're keepin' the women they rounded up to be hulled off."

"Okay," Anali nodded. "Now is there somewhere the bandits usually occupy?"

"Either Mayor Grey's house," Donnel replied; he drew a circle diagonally across from the last circle. "They've been keepin' the Mayor and his wife in the house at all hours. But usually they're at the tavern."

He drew sixth circle a few centimeters way from the circle representing the drawbridge. "Okay," Anali nodded, the wheels in her head were beginning to turn. "Donny, is there _anything_ they wouldn't know about the village? Anything at all?"

"Em…" Donnel thought for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. What didn't they know about the village? His first thought was how hard working, good, and chummy everyone was, but he doubted that was what she meant. "Well, there's the well. You can actually swim into it from the lake outside the fort. Hehe! We liked to give everyone a scare by doing that as youngins."

Anali's brow rose, a well? That could work. "Oh, and there's this old wagon 'bout a mile into the woods," Donnel explained. "'S been there for as long as I can remember."

"What has?" Chrom asked, startling the pair.

"A wagon Donnel mentioned," explained Anali. "And depending on it's current state," she crossed her arms over her chest with an all too proud grin on her face. "I think I know how we can reclaim the fort by sunrise."

Anali's plan was actually quite simple. But at the same time there were plenty of places where it could just collapse on itself and there goes the Farfort, and about half the Shepherds. Everything needed to be timed right, if someone acted to soon or too late, everything would quickly go to hell.

"This is gonna get us all killed," mumbled Vaike. He pulled himself into the wagon; it creaked each time he shifted his weight.

The abandoned wagon played would play a huge part in it, but the thing looked like it would collapse on itself at any time. Sully's horse, Baldulf, was deemed the fastest and strngest out of them all, and thus would be the one pulling as he could make a fast escape if something went horribly wrong.

"It just needs to hold out long enough," Chrom said, his cape and pauldron were removed from his person. A good half of the Shepherds had removed their armor, and placed it in the wagon. All it would do was weigh them down, and make unnecessary noise.

"Does everybody understand what their job is?" Chrom asked them.

"Um…" Kellam raised his hand. "What group am I in again?"

"Getting in is, obviously, the tricky part," said Anali. "Stealth is everything for the first group as much as timing for the second group is."

"Donny," Chrom said to the village boy. "I want you to stay close."

"Beg pardon, milord? You mean…?" Donnel's voice raised a couple of octaves. Anali hoped against hope that he hadn't given them away. Donnel looked from Chrom, to the fort, then back. "I… I can't fight, sir! I ain't never even stuck a pig before!"

"Oh, sorry," Chrom said quickly. "I just thought… I mean…" He shook his head. "Look, just stay here. You'll be fine."

Donnel's hands tightened into a couple of fists. "I wish I was as strong as you sirs and madams," he said, his voice sounded as tight as his throat probably was. "Kick that scum out single handed, I would!"

"Then you should fight with us," Chrom suggested. "That's the best way to grow stronger."

"But I ain't-"

"No man is born a warrior, Donny. And farm work makes for fine training - a sickle's not far from a sword, after all. Bandits may be tougher than wheat, but the principle's the same."

Donnel rubbed the back of his neck, then took in a deep breath. "A-All right, milord. As you say, I'm no warrior. But there're my people. I gots to do what I can!"

"Good, is everyone ready?" Fredrick asked, and was promptly met with mumbles and groans. "Ah, yes. _That's_ the sort of attitude you want to hear before a liberation."

"Well maybe if the plan wasn't so flimsy," grumbled Sully.

"Sully!" Chrom shot back.

"What? I'm not the only one thinking it!"

"No, no, you're not," Anali said, pushing her bangs back. There was an edge to her voice; like she would happily mock the person who came up with this idea, if that person wasn't Anali herself.

Anali followed the first group, which consisted of Chrom, Sully, Stahl, and Donnel, to a lake, a quarter of a mile away from the Farfort. According to Donnel, there was a pipeline that connected the lake to five wells in the village, giving them access to fresh water. "You sure we can make it through the well?" Stahl asked skeptically.

"Well sure," Donnel replied. "Ah used to do it all the time as a kid."

"So you can make the swim then?" asked Anali; to which Donnel nodded in response. "Okay, that's really good to know. Yes, we definitely want you with the first group, you know the village better than any of us, and you'll know where the bandits are stationed. Are you okay with that?"

"I should be able to handle that."

The dark haired woman nodded. Suddenly the journey here seemed so long ago. This morning, Anali would not have imagined herself coming up with the plan to liberate the Farfort. If someone died it would be on Anali and her bright idea.

Donnel lead Sully and Stahl into the lake as Anali pushed her bangs back; she bit her lower lip. This was it, no turning back. Her heart was beginning to pound in her chest with a force that surely shook her ribcage. _Don't run away, _Anali told herself over and over. _Don't run away. Don't run away. Do not run away._

The hand on her shoulder startled her enough to release her grip on her hair. Chrom was looking at her with a very slight smile. "It's going to be fine, Anali," he said.

She shook her head, slowly. "How do you know?" she asked. "What make's you so sure?"

"Because you have a talent for battle strategy. I haven't seen anyone able to size up their enemies with such accuracy as you. This isn't exactly the first strategy you've come up with."

Anali hugged her left arm close to her. "Maybe…" she murmured. As much as Anali wanted to avoid needless bloodshed of her comrades, and the innocent villagers, she still needed to stay focused. She would be no good to the Shepherds if all she did was worry. "Be careful, Chrom."

"You too," replied Chrom.

Anali gave him a brief nod before she hurried back to the wagon. When they first split into two groups, it was on the basis of who knew they could make the swim for sure. That left Chrom, Donnel, Sully and Stahl. Neither Vaike or Fredrick were certain if they could make it in one breath. Miriel admitted she wasn't that strong of a swimmer, and Anali wasn't even sure if she could swim. In the end, they were divvied up pretty evenly, so it worked out.

Chrom waded into the water until he could no longer feel the floor beneath his feet. He could always swim very well, childhood incidents not withstanding, and presuming they handle this safely, Chrom should be able to make it to the well in one breath.

When they got to the rocky wall, Donnel took in a deep breath, then went under. One by one the Shepherds mimicked this; it was hard, with little to no light, but Chrom was vaguely able to see Donnel disappear into the pipe. The pipe itself was a tight squeeze, but they were still able to kick to propel themselves, however using their arms was out of the question. And at once, Chrom was glad Anali had enough foresight to suggest they leave their armor behind. Not only would it just weigh them down, but it would have been even harder to make the swim.

Donnel pushed off the floor and swam up; they were in already. Chrom followed behind the village boy; his head broke through the water in a matter of seconds. He brushed his dripping bangs out of his eyes as Stahl and Sully followed suit. There were a few voices in the distance, so there was a chance they could climb out unnoticed. Donnel pointed to the wall, several bricks had been pulled out to create hand and footholds. It should not have been that surprising, given the village children did this sort of thing a lot.

Chrom grabbed onto the hold and slowly began to pull himself up. Once out of the water he paused, no one heard him. He gestured for the others to follow him, but slowly. One by one, they climbed out of the well. Chrom gestured for Donnel to follow him, while Sully and Stahl snuck over to Mayor Grey's house.

Donnel lead the way to the holdings within the heart of the village; both kept within the shadows. The younger boy stopped behind someone's house, then gestured around the corner. A man leaned against the door, he looked ready to conk out at any time. Chrom held up one hand to Donnel, the message behind it was clear; _wait_.

Chrom creped around the corner of the house, and the string of homes beside it; stalking closer to the near-sleeping man. At the edge of the line, Chrom could see the building, and the man in plane sight. "What's this you're yammerin' about?" he heard. Instinctively, his hand went to the hilt of Falchion.

"This guy's claiming to have the village's imports from Regna Ferox," another man replied.

"It's the middle of the night!"

"He was sayin' he had wagon trouble."

So Fredrick and Anali's group were doing okay then. For now at least. There wasn't a signal from Sully and Stahl yet; if they could last just another few minutes they were right where they wanted to be. The voices were muffled as their respective owners walked off. Steeling the moment, Chrom lunched forward.

He wrapped one arm around the man's neck and pulled against him. He used his other arm to keep the man's head steady. The man, who had just snapped out of his daze, struggled in Chrom's grip; struggling to breathe, struggling to break free. He gasped for air, still thrashing about, until his breathing ceased, and his arms hung limp at his sides.

Chrom laid the man down, then rummaged through his person. There was a key ring attached to his belt. He removed the ring, and stood upright; Donnel hurried to Chrom's side. The hooting of an owl echoed across the village, the telltale sign that Stahl and Sully were successful in rescuing Mayor Grey and his wife. "Phase one, done," murmured Donnel.

"We're not out of the woods yet, Donny," Chrom reminded him; he stuck the key into the lock and turned it.

"Ah know. I'm just a little amazed we've made it _this_ far."

"It's not because we did this alone, I'll tell you that much," said Chrom; he unlocked the door and slowly opened it.

Inside, the village maidens, some as young as thirteen, were huddled in the corner of the room. One of the girls stood up, as though trying to put herself between the potential threat, and the others. By the look on her face alone, Chrom was willing to believe she would wrestle a bear if it were to keep these girls safe. "Miss. Rosalind?" Donnel questioned, he lightly pushed Chrom to the side. His smile brightened at the sight of the young woman. "Miss. Rosalind! So glad to see you're safe 'n sound! I woulda thought for sure they'd sent you away by now."

"I could say the same about you!" Rosalind shot back. "I was just hearin' from Roddick that you managed to escape." She looked up at Chrom, her brow arched for a moment before her eyes widened. "And you found the Shepherds? How on earth'd you manage that?"

"By accident…" Donnel admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chrom cleared his throat. "Donny, I'm sure you and your… friend, have a bit to catch up on," he said. "But we may very well be pressed for time."

"Ah! Sorry," Donnel said quickly, his face began to turn red.

"You're here to save us?" One of the maidens asked standing up.

"Please, Sire," one of the thirteen-year-olds spoke up. "I wanna go home."

"Don't worry," Chrom assured them. "After tonight everyone will be home, safe and sound. First we want to get you out of here, and to the Mayor's as a safe house."

"But they'll catch us!" one of the girls argued.

"And? I'd rather die than experience the alternative!"

"Die?!"

"I want my Ma and Pa!"

"I don't wanna die though!"

They were cut off by the shouting outside; even from there, Chrom could smell smoke. Looks like the second group reached their limit. "We need to move," Chrom said, unsheathing Falchion. "Now!"

* * *

><p>"Be careful, Chrom," said Anali.<p>

"You, too," replied Chrom.

Turning on her heel, Anali half-jogged back to the wagon. Fredrick had seated himself on the wagon with the reigns in hand. The spare traveling cloaks he had packed were laid out on the wagon with Chrom's groups, and Fredrick's, armor. In a fluid movement, Anali pulled herself onto the wagon, which moaned under her weight.

"These men aren't stupid," she heard Fredrick mutter to himself. He covered himself with one of the traveling cloaks. "They will know I'm up to something very quickly."

"I know," said Anali. "Our goal isn't to make them believe what your telling them, just distract them long enough to keep Chrom and the others from being seen. If you show up in the middle of the night, claming to have exported goods they're not expecting, that might rile up a bit of confusion."

"I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing," Vaike said with a glare.

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't," replied Anali.

"Hey, guys, maybe we should keep quiet," Kellam suggested. "Just a thought."

Vaike, Miriel and Anali looked at the back corner of the wagon were Kellam was seated, waiting for them to get started. How long had he been there?! Vaike was about ready to shout, indubitably just as startled as Anali was, he probably would have blown their cover if Anali and Miriel had not each slapped a hand over his mouth. "Kellam!" Fredrick hissed through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Chrom's group."

"Was I?" Kellam asked, genuinely confused. "No one really said…"

Anali felt her jaw hang open; where _was_ Kellam supposed to be? He did not say he could make the swim when asked… or did he? Why couldn't Anali remember? Or, better yet, why didn't she see that Kellam was there in the first place? "You know what, it doesn't matter," Anali said; she began to use her hands to talk with her. "It works out either way. We're just going to waste time trying to figure it out. Right now, we really need to huddle together."

Following Anali's instructions the four squatted down in the back of the wagon with the travel cloaks covering them. "Moment of truth," Fredrick murmured to himself.

Clicking his tongue, Fredrick snapped the reigns, and Baldulf began to walk at a steady pace. The wagon creaked and lightly swayed from side to side. Anali suddenly worried that it might fall apart if they hit the slightest bump in the road. And why did she not think about this before they set off?

They remained silent, aside from the _clop, clop _of Baldulf, and the creaking of the rickety old wagon. Anali could not tell you how long they were there for, five minutes? Fifteen seconds? Five seconds? The anticipation made it all uncomfortably long.

The wagon slowed to a stop followed by someone shouting, "State your business!"

"I'm just delivering the fabrics from Regna Ferox," said Fredrick. The accent he had adopted would have been comical, if not for their current situation.

"Sir, do you have any idea what time it is?" the man asked, irritably.

"Do you have any idea what I had to go through to bring these here?" Fredrick asked in return. "The hail, the snow, the rodents of unusual sizes, the Risen and bandits!"

"Sir, it's the middle of the night."

"Did I not already mention the Risen? Now, the seamstress was supposed to be expecting these fabrics a week ago, at least let me drop them off."

"Seamstress? What do these hick-folk need with a seamstress?"

"Believe me, sir, why would I be here in the middle of the night, as you've kindly pointed out, if I were lying? I have things I would much rather be doing at this hour."

The guard leaned to the side, then craned his neck up, trying to get a look inside the wagon. What if there had been fabrics on their way here? What was he supposed to do? "Hold your fire!" the guard shouted skywards. "Wait here, I need to ask about this."

Anali's heart nearly leaped into her throat. This was good, this was just what they wanted. The bandits did not want to be found out anymore than the Shepherds did, so they needed to stall just as much. As far as they knew, Ylisse did not know about the capture of the fort, and they would have wanted to keep it that way.

They could hear voices go back and forth with each other as the guard disappeared into one of the buildings. The shadows could be seen through the windows of the tavern. They were muffled voices at first, then slowly built up to shouting, "What seamstress?! What order?!" These two lines repeated three more times.

The tavern door opened and a scrawny little man hurried out. He sprinted across the road, to the inn; after knocking on the door, someone let him in. Less than a minute later, someone lit a candle on the ground floor. Everything had become silent, eerily silent.

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. True, the whole point was to stall as Chrom's group saved the mayor and the maidens, but Anali had no idea what was going on with the bandits. Had they found out about Chrom's group? Did they know what was in the wagon?

The door opened ten minutes later; the scrawny man darted back into the tavern. The muffled conversation started back up again. Hardly two seconds passed before a few _'You idiots!' _were thrown out. The tavern's door slammed open, a gruff man stomped out with the guard close at his heels shouting, "Roddick! Roddick, wait!"

"Alright," the gruff man, Roddick, snapped at Fredrick. "What game are you playin' at?!"

"Tis no game, good sir," Fredrick replied, unaffected by Roddick's raised voice. "I am just a merchant from Regna Ferox, here to trade my goods for moons and suns."

"And what merchant arrives this late at night?" Roddick replied. He rounded the wagon so that he could look inside. "What would the seamstress need with fabric anyway?"

"Well, sir, the whole concept of a seamstress is-"

"Lemme rephrase that," Roddick said; he reached inside the wagon. "What does the seamstress need with fabric, when she's been dead for the last six months?"

He grabbed the cloak and yanked on it. In a flash, Miriel snapped her tome open; she tossed her free hand forward. Almost immediately, Roddick and the guard were blown back by a blast of fire. The guard started to scream; the sleeve of his tunic had caught fire. "We're under attack!" Roddick roared, and one by one the windows of each building lit up. He ran back to the tavern. "Everyone grab your blade and fight! Archer's open fire!"

Vaike and Kellam leaned back until the wagon fully tipped over, taking everyone inside with it. Baldulf whinnied in an open panic. Quickly, Fredrick undid his harness, and the stallion bolted into the village, "Somebody get that horse!"

Fredrick took shelter behind the fallen wagon as the archers began firing arrows at them. "Okay, we've got two options now," Anali said in a hushed tone. "We can either charge into the fort, I'm sure they won't risk hitting their own men, or wait for them to run out of arrows. But if we do that, we'll probably be here for a while."

"Well, fuck that idea," Vaike said brandishing his axe. "We'd be here for ages if we waited them out."

"Oh, I agree," said Anali. "Which is why we just charge in."

"That will only succeed in making us targets," Fredrick pointed out.

"Only if we move in a b-line," Miriel said, snapping her Fire tome close. "So long as we make ourselves difficult targets until we get ourselves into the fray."

"What she said," Anali said, gesturing to Miriel. "We just run in, and don't be an easy target."

"As good an idea as any," mumbled Vaike.

On the count of three, Vaike and Kellam were the first to sprint out from behind the wagon. The bandit's archers fired, one of the arrows nicked Kellam's armor, but it wasn't enough to break his stride. Miriel, Fredrick, and Anali followed suit. "Hold fire!" someone shouted as they successfully made it inside. "Hold fire and get down here, you idiots!"

Inside the fort, all hell had broken loose. Anali could see the villagers shut themselves into their homes. Men encouraging their wives and children to hide in the cellar. Lights being snuffed out in the windows. That was good; they understood enough of what was going on to keep themselves hidden. That would mean there would be less innocent blood spilt tonight.

Torches on the outsides of the buildings quickly lit up the town with such a force, it would have been easy to mistake that morning was on the horizon. Chrom, Donnel, Sully, and Stahl had successfully transferred the maidens to Mayor Grey's house. The last thing they wanted was one of the bandits to escape with any of the girls. In a stroke of luck, Grey and his wife had a secret cellar under their dining room that their leader, Roddick, knew nothing about, so they would all be safe in there.

Once the group split up to enter the fray, Donnel found himself a bronze lance to use against the brigands. He couldn't do much else then just swing it and hope it hits, but if Donnel did have one thing it was speed. He may have lacked strength and knowledge, but his ability to dodge was quite admirable. It was little wonder he had managed to escape.

The Shepherds had scattered throughout the village. Stahl stuck close to Donnel should the boy get in way over his head. Sully had reunited with her stallion and began cutting through the brutes like a hot knife through butter. Kellam remained unnoticed by the Shepherds, but also by the bandits themselves; they never knew what hit them. Vaike and Fredrick made fighting against them look easy. Miriel was able to keep them at bay with her magic, and Anali alternated between her sword and tome.

The bandits here where in a different league than the bandits in Southtown, when Chrom first met Anali. Their men were stronger, more resilient; they actually knew what they were doing. The notion wasn't entirely surprising, they had seized the Farfort for a week, after all. But, they were not organized, that was their fatal flaw.

They didn't know about the messenger hawk someone managed to send out. Their guard didn't know off the top of his head that the seamstress had died. Nor did they know about the secret cellar in the Mayor's house, they could have been hiding villagers under their nose without knowing it. And now, here they where, fighting against the Shepherd's with no strategy outside of _'cut-them-down.' _

The ruffian's attacked them with no rhyme or reason, it was simply getting the Shepherds killed the fastest way possible. It should have been easy for them, the Shepherds only had eight men with them, nine if they counted Donnel. The bandits easily outnumbered them, but they were not going down, not as easily as Roddick would have wanted.

Miriel reared back. One of her spells missed its intended target, the brute was quick to steal the opportunity. He threw his arm horizontally, no doubt trying to cut through Miriel's midsection. The red-haired mage, while certainly not the fastest, staggered back, missing the oncoming blow just enough to cut through her robes and knick her on the arm. Blood suddenly splurted from the bandit's backside, he fell over with an axe protruding from the right side of his back, just below the shoulder.

A spiky haired blonde stood behind the man, still frozen in position once he released his axe. He smirked, prideful of his own accomplishment, as he walked up, and retrieved his axe. Readjusting her glasses, Miriel sighed. Vaike's action did not go unappreciated, but he _could_ have been a bit more timely.

Sully plowed through the street's on horseback with her lance in hand. Baldulf had found her after Fredrick released him from the wagon, a possible blessing that Sully was not about to question. She could cover more ground this way, and cut down more of these dastards. She got caught up in the action in front of her, she failed to notice the shadow following close behind, watching her back from any projectile weaponry.

Fredrick and Anali fought back-to-back, with Anali alternating between her sword, and magic. She knew full well what Fredrick's abilities were like, and rightfully guessed that he held back during their training sessions. But she had some idea of what to keep an eye out for on his end, so that she didn't end up hit by accident.

A sword-welding ruffian ran up to Anali. She met him half-way; Anali slashed into him, just between his shoulder and neck. The man screamed loud enough to surely hurt his throat. Enraged, the bandit thrusted his sword forward, aiming for Anali's face. She was able to misdirect the blow by kicking the man in the abdomen; he fell over, unsurprisingly, blood was beginning to pool around his head from his injury. Quickly, before the man had the chance to get up, Anali drove her blade into him. Silence.

Chrom was thirteen when he first received Falchion, the only one of the three royals both able and willing to wield it. He knew full well that Emmeryn would not keep such a blade at her side, for it would be like turning her back on her principals. And Lissa, despite what she said about being willing to defend Ylisse, the thought of wielding a melee weapon overwhelmed her. No, Lissa was okay with healing and magic. So, Chrom was the only one left to carry one of Ylisse national treasures, the very sword used by the first Exalt.

When Chrom was first given the blade at thirteen, he understood full well what his duty to Ylisse was. To rebuild its shattered army, to act in Emmeryn's stead, to defend Ylisse from those who would take advantage of it's greatest attribute. Plegian's stirring up the peace, even ruffians who thought they could keep themselves safe by taking the Farfort. He would be the one to show them that Ylisse was not the haildom to take advantage of.

So Chrom cut through the bandits who challenged him. There number's were beginning to diminish, and fast. Let it be one of the Shepherds cutting them down, or the bandits were cutting their losses and fled the scene. If nothing else, the cowards were weeded out.

A woman cried out as she was being dragged out of her home by Roddick. She was a plump, middle aged woman; the low ponytail she styled her hair in was beginning to unravel. Didn't Donnel say that they were collecting the maidens? This woman could have very well been married with her own gaggle of children. But, as Chrom decided, the details did not matter. She was in trouble, he had to help her.

Luce pulled at Roddick's hand, the very one that was held tight around the back of her shirt, pulling a few strands of hair. She knew full well that Roddick was downright furious; his plans, his means of protection had all gone to hell in less than an hour. Luce knew he would come for her, however she expected it sooner. "Damn it!" Roddick hissed, throwing Luce to the ground. "All of this because that kid of yours got away!"

"This would have happened even if he hadn't!" Luce shot back. "Did you think we didn't learn anything since you last came here!"

A snide grin played upon Roddick's lips, recalling the event several years a back. One of the villagers retaliated and struck Roddick with a pitchfork, successfully breaking a couple of his ribs. So, Roddick and his gang returned the favor by killing him; Luce was his wife. "If I had enough sense back then, I woulda killed that brat of yours before he got out!" Roddick barked back. "I outta wring his neck next time I see him."

"He's just a boy!" Luce cried out; a new form of panic began to swell up in her chest. Her boy had a good head on his shoulders, didn't he? Surely he would stay away, surely he would run.

A smirk played upon Roddick's face. Why not take care of both the woman and her son now, and save him the trouble of a vengeful, childless widow? That would get the entire family under his belt, after all they were proving to be more trouble than they were worth. First the husband and his pitchfork, the son making a run for it, why should Roddick wait for the wife to retaliate and humiliate him and his men, too? No man, woman, or child would show up Roddick.

Roddick removed his axe from its sling on his belt. Luce, with widened eyes, pushed herself back; she understood what Roddick was thinking. He raised the weapon above his shoulder. Where should he strike her? Get her in the chest and get it over with? Or why not chop of each limb and let her die slowly and painfully as he hunted her son?

He realized too late that Chrom was two feet away from him; the prince punched Roddick in the jaw. He stumbled back, and braced himself against Luce's home. He was bleeding out of the mouth after he bit his tongue.

As Roddick tried to come to his senses, Chrom knelt down and helped Luce onto her feet. "You all right?" he asked her. Unable to find her voice, Luce nodded. "Find someplace safe, we'll have the fort back before you-"

"Milord!" Luce exclaimed, suddenly finding her voice again.

In one, swift, movement, Chrom brandished his blade, and blocked the oncoming axe. Roddick put as much strength into his attack as he could muster. Blood from his cut tongue pooled in his mouth, a minor inconvenience compared to the blood of a royal on his axe. "Time to show you castle whelp what us wild-born men can do!" shouted Roddick, his tone laced with mirth.

"We will see about that!" Chrom countered.

Seeing that his first attack was not about to get him anywhere, Roddick threw his arm back for another attack. Something Chrom blocked with ease. It went on like that several more times. Chrom playing defensive, while Roddick went onto the full attack, and then they got into a rhythm. It was only then, did Chrom attack him for a change.

Stepping forward, Chrom drove the tip of Falchion right through Roddick's axe-hand; Chrom could feel the blade scrape against the bone. Screaming, Roddick dropped to one knee, keeping his injured arm raised. The brute looked up at Chrom with bloodshot eyes. "You…" Roddick cursed through clenched teeth. "_You_…!"

Unexpectedly, Roddick pulled his own arm off of Falchion. Roddick, no doubt ignoring the immense pain, swung his axe at Chrom successfully cutting his arm and chest. Chrom stumbled back, his right arm bleeding just above the crease of his elbow. Roddick began to swing his blade around wildly, and all Chrom could do was protect himself with his own sword. With Roddick attacking so randomly, it was difficult to find a spot for an open attack

There was a sudden splurge from Roddick's backside; he looked down to find his front bleeding profusely. Donnel stood behind him, having driven his lance into his back. The boy's eyes were widened, as his actions slowly sunk in. Donnel wasn't quite sure what he was doing at the time, he saw Chrom struggling, so he just acted.

But he didn't have a word for what he was feeling at that moment. This was the man who murdered his pa, took over his village, planed to prostitute ladies he called his friends, and was _going_ to kill his ma. Donnel should have been happy, relieved that such a man wouldn't harm anyone anymore. But he did not have the word for this emotion.

Slowly, Roddick turned his head around to look at Donnel. He looked downright terrified, and enraged. "D-Damn you…" murmured Roddick. His eyes rolled back as he slumped over. He was dead as a doornail.

There were voices from the other Shepherds meshed into one. One by one, the lights from the village homes began to flicker on, as men and women poked their heads out the door. "Is… Is it over?" asked Donnel.

With a small smile, Chrom nodded and clapped Donnel on the shoulder. "A worthy first victory, Donny," he said. "You fought well."

"Donny…?" the woman, Luce, asked. She slowly stepped out of the barn she had taken shelter in.

The village boy smiled boldly. "Ma!" Donnel cried, running into Luce's arms.

"Oh, Donny!" Luce sobbed, holding her son close, as though she were afraid to let him go again. Afraid of what might happen if she did. "Thank goodness you're safe!" Her hands went from Donnel's backside, to his shoulders. Luce held him at arms length. "What were you thinkin'?! You had me worried to _death_, boy!"

Donnel gave his mother a lopsided grin. The last Luce had seen of her son, he was trying to convince her that he could make a run for it. That he could find help before they shipped the girls off. Donnel's escape had been less than stellar, with Roddick declaring that he would kill him if he ever saw Donnel again. "Sorry Ma…" Donnel said; rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes were cast downward.

Luce pulled her son close to her again. Around them, the villagers emerged from their homes, the maidens the bandits had captured returned to their families. Mayor Grey spoke with Fredrick, probably to ask where Chrom was, and about the village restoration. The village itself was still in decent condition, but their resources had dwindled with the bandit's eating them out of house and home. There was some hope for them, however, it was still spring, they could grow their crops long before winter arrived. "No flying axes this time?"

The sudden voice startled Chrom enough to make him jump. Whipping around on his heel, his hand wrapped tight around the hilt of Falchion, but, it was only Anali, looking a little worse for wear. Her left pigtail was beginning to come undone, with three locks of hair hanging free. There was a thin cut on her right cheek, just under her eye, that traveled all the way back to her earlobe, her upper right arm had been bleeding, and the sleeve had a small tear in it. She was tired, though, that much was written on her face.

Her shoulders begin to shake with giggles. "Sorry, did I startle you?" she asked in between giggles. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist."

Shaking his head, Chrom let out a low chuckle. The odds had not exactly been in their favor, it was nine men against a band of ruffians. They were outnumbered by more than a handful, but they all made it out alive. Chrom wouldn't have thought to sneak in through the well, nor would he have thought to use an old wagon to help with a distraction. Perhaps it was that that gave them the upper hand so quickly. They were able to free the hostages, and get the girls to safety should anything go wrong.

They had successfully rescued the village girls from who knows what, and liberated the village. They were alive, they were worse for wear, but they were alive. If this was what Anali could come up with in just a matter of minutes with little to work with, Chrom had to wonder what else she was capable of.

"Milord," Mayor Grey said, walking up to the pair. He lowered his head, and for a moment, Anali could have sworn the older man had been crying at one point. "We cannot thank you and your Shepherds enough. Sir Fredrick explained how you split into two groups, one as a distraction, your's sneaking in. Quite clever, milord."

"Actually, I'm afraid I cannot take credit for that," said Chrom. Before Anali could stop him, Chrom had placed both hands on Anali's shoulders and guided her in front of him. Her face had been dusted with a pink blush. "That belongs to our new tactician, Anali."

And just like that the blush on Anali's face dissipated, and she looked back up at Chrom with an arched brow. Had she heard correctly. Their new _tactician_? He was serious about that?! Well, _yes_, Anali did seem to have an eye for sizing up enemies, and _yes_, creating the plan was kind of fun and exhilarating, and _yes_, she had been reading up on battle strategies. But shouldn't such a position go to someone who had more expertise and experience. Anali had only been a Shepherd for three weeks, _this_ was her first march, _this_ was her first _real_ battle strategy.

"Well, then, Lady Anali," Mayor Grey said, taking her hand into both of his. And once more, Anali's face began to heat up when he called her 'Lady.' "You have the Farfort's gratitude."

"Th-Thank you, sir," Anali stuttered, she carefully pulled her hand out of Grey's grip. "B-But any plan is useless without willing men and women. We wouldn't have gotten anywhere without Chrom leading us."

Mayor Grey tossed his head back, laughing. "I suppose we all stand corrected," he said. "It would seem the Farfort has you both to thank."

Chrom could not help but smile a little. Perhaps the mayor was right. The liberation of the Farfort was a joint effort by the Ylissean prince, and a wandering Plegian woman.

* * *

><p>Fredrick had convinced Chrom that it was probably a good idea to journey back to Ylisstol early in the morning, when there was daylight out. However, that would leave them with only a few hours of sleep. The exhausted Shepherds moaned, and groaned, and Chrom was in complete understanding, but both Chrom and Fredrick were unwavering in their resolve. "Lady Emmeryn, and Lissa would want to know of our success as soon as possible, milord," Fredric had told him. And Chrom couldn't find it in him to disagree, no matter how exhausted he was.<p>

The inn had graciously provided them with rooms for the rest of the night, and a light meal before bed. In the mess hall they laid out a warm pot of chicken broth, and warm bread. The chatter amongst the Shepherds was low, and mumbled, they were all exhausted from this long, long night. Well, all but Vaike, who boastfully recollected his kills of the night, whether anyone wanted to listen or not.

"Kellam," Sully said, sitting herself in front of the man in question.

"Y-Yes?" Kellam stuttered. Not that he wasn't pleased to be speaking to someone, Kellam was sure everyone forgot he was there at all.

"I've got a bone to pick with you, pip-squeak," said Sully. Her expression dull, with irritation behind her fiery eyes. "Fredrick tells me you were secretly watching my back."

"Um, I wans't really trying to keep it a secret, Sully," explained Kellam. "I was jut fighting alongside-"

"Well knock it off!" the red haired woman said, pounding her fist on the table with enough force to cause Kellam's bowl and utensils to shake. "I don't need some tiny man in an oversized suit of armor watching me like I'm some child. Got it?!"

"B-B-But…" Kellam took a deep breath in. He knew what to do, just calmly explain himself to her, and this whole thing would just blow over. "I wasn't giving you special treatment, Sully, honest. I just want to protect my comrades."

Slamming both hands onto the table, Sully stood up and leaned in forward. "I'll say this once, pip-squeak," Sully said darkly. "Don't ever pull that crap again! Are we clear? 'Cause if we are, I'm done. I'm exhausted and I'd rather not spend the rest of the night yelling at you, tin man."

Making her piece, Sully pushed her seat back, and stomped off to her room to turn in for the night. Kellam sat stone still, a little dumbfounded by the events that had just played out. That had not gone the way he had hoped it would.

The minutes quickly ticked by and the chatter amongst them died down. Odds were they would all be heading to bed in a few minutes. When the door creaked open, several of the Shepherds looked up at the door. Donnel poked his head inside before he walked in. "Donny," Chrom said, genuinely surprised. "It's late, I would have thought you were at home with your ma."

"I was," Donnel said, rubbing the back of his neck. "B-But I has a request, sir. If you'd allow it, Your Graceliness… please take me with you, milord. Lemme be a Shepherd like you! I wanna hone my… whatever it is you said earlier. I wanna protect the village if this ever happens again. Please, sir!"

There was a conviction in Donnel's dark eyes. As frightened as he might have been after he killed a man, his drive to keep his mother, and his village safe completely overrode it. His pa had died keeping his family safe, if the gods willed it, Donnel would do the same. His ma may argue at first, but she would understand. "We'd he happy to have you, Donny," said Chrom with a tired grin.

The boy's eyes lit up. "Yeh mean it?" he asked, a wide grin breaking out on his face. "Ah, thank you, milord! You won't regret this, I promise you!"

Before Chrom could say anything else, Donnel raced out of the inn, yelling _'yee-haw!' _all the while. Anali, who had previously struggled not to doze off, tried to hide her smile. Three weeks ago, she had been concerned about acceptance due to her possible (but highly plausible) origin. That Anali was most likely from some dirt poor family, that she did not fit in with Ylisse's military. Had she witnessed this scene play out, the prince of Ylisse happily accepting a village boy into the Shepherds, her decision would have been easier to make. But, in the end, Anali wouldn't have traded any of it for the world.

The next morning was filled with groaning and yawns, from all but Fredrick. How on earth did he do it? One of the villagers fetched the horses, and had them well taken care of. Anali road with Stahl on the way back to the docks for the trip back to the mainland. She was not looking forward to that.

Donnel had a comedically large knapsack. His mother, naturally, had seen him off. "You're sure you want to do this, Donny?" Luce asked. She looked older than she had the previous night. Then again, last night, she wasn't seeing her son off as he went out into the world. "No one will blame you if-"

"I wanna protect the village, ma," Donnel said, cutting Luce off. "I wanna keep something like this from happenin' again. I wanna be able to keep _you_ safe. You know what I mean?"

Luce looked Donnel in the eye. Somehow, when her back was turned he started to grow up. When had that happened? "You just…" said Luce. Sighing, she fixed Donnel's collar. "You just come home safe, love."

Misty eyed, Donnel threw his arms over Luce and held him close to her. He dwarfed his mother by a head and a-half. The sight hit Anali with a wave of envy. She had moments like this with her own mother, didn't she? She had to. Perhaps Anali spent her summer days out fishing with her father, and helped her mother prepare dinner in the evenings. Maybe her mother read to her as a child, and she helped her father repair damages to their home. What if she had siblings?

Anali wanted to believe her family was still alive, but the state she was found in didn't leave much hope.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: <strong>This chapter kinda proves the point I made when I first started writing this. That the hardest part is figuring out whether Anali's strategies are really good ideas, or if they're only good ideas if everyone else is stupid. I'm going to be mixing up the order of the parologues until we get to the future children paralogues, though I can't say anything about the SpotPass ones at the moment. Spoilers and all. The reason is that, in the game, they pop up at pretty odd times, like the Sickle to Sword one, in-game they're on an important mission to form an alliance, but then trouble starts brewing on the _**opposite side of the map.**_

With that said, I decided to do Sickle to Sword first as it seemed like a good first mission for Anali. It wanted her to have at least one outing with them before heading up to Regna Ferox, mostly to solidify her position as tactician. What she had come up with in Chapters One and Two really did not seem like all that much, at least not enough to name a person tactician.

Now, Anali's clothes… It was mentioned a few times in the story that it was Plegian garb, so not following up on that would have been a waste. And I just wanted to have Anali stand out from other 'Robin's.' I did try to keep the color scheme of the coat in tact, however so it wouldn't deviate _too_ much.

Reminder about my tumblr blog **sammiewritesstuff**, where I'll be happy to answer any question, and eventually post tidbits, updates, and other goodies.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five  
><strong>**Warrior Realm**

Donnel adjusted to Shepherd life beautifully, not so much to the life of Ylisstol. When they returned to the palace, the boy apologized to every one and everything he bumped into while gawking. Had Anali been like that when she was brought in, she had to wonder. But, you couldn't really take farm life out of him. Within three days at the garrison Donnel had a small patch of land dug up for a garden, and several potted plants set up by the windows.

Training was something he had adjusted to much easier than Anali could have hoped to. Getting up early wasn't anything new to Donnel, and he was already quite fast compared to his comrades. He was going to thrive with the Shepherds, that much was certain.

With the victory of the Farfort under her belt, and the realization that, yes, she was the Shepherds tactician, Anali was often found with her nose buried deep in one of her books. More often than naught she had several rolls of parchment with her, and a bottle of ink. She wrote down as much as she could; the notes she wanted to remember, and the ideas that came to her. Anali easily lost herself in moments like these.

"Anali…" Fredrick said, spotting the cluttered table in the mess hall one day during lunch. That day, he looked like he had dealt with more than enough tomfoolery, and did not want to have to put up with anything Anali had to dish out. "Is all of this really necessary?"

"It's my job, as the tactician, to keep everyone alive, isn't it?" said Anali. "I don't want to create a strategy that could so easily fall apart like at the Farfort."

Sighing, Fredrick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just don't let this interfere with training," he said. "All this strategy will be useless the moment you collapse on the ground because you stayed up late to take notes."

Five days after the Farfort, Anali sat in the library, with a game board, and tiny blue and red figurines littered out on it's surface. Her head was rested in one hand with her fingers combed through her bangs, and her elbow on the table. So if she spread out, the Pegasus Knights could sweep in with nice little…

"Goodness," an accented voice said from over her shoulder. "I can practically see smoke rising from your head. Whatever could have you working at such a fevered tilt?"

Jumping slightly in her seat, Anali looked up to see Virion peering at the board. "Oh," Anali murmured after the initial shock wore off. She looked back down at the board, her hand began to fiddle with the little figurines. "I'm just using this to work out battle strategies and scenarios. Figured it was easier to use this first than to run everyone ragged for training exercises."

"How very clever," Virion said thoughtfully. He picked up one of the red pieces. "You even carved little enemy forces to fight them. I'm impressed. And that doesn't happen very often," he shrugged. "With other people, at least."

"Don't go patting me on the back yet," Anali heaved. "It's not as effective as I had hoped as long as I control both parties. I can't really plan for the unexpected when I already know who's going to do what."

Virion placed the figure back in its spot. He strode over to the other side of the table, pulled out the chair, and seated himself down. "Then permit me to be your opponent," said Virion. "I shall strike with the nobility of the lion and defend with the grace of a swan!"

"Because swans are known for defending and battle?" Anali asked with a weary expression. Virion never really struck her as the tactical type of person. Then again, he never struck her as a fighter either, but on the other hand, how well did she know him? "Obviously. Em… okay, I accept. We'll take turns moving units until one of us claims the other's commander, okay?"

"Agreed and agreed again," Virion said, cracking his knuckles. "Please begin, by all means."

Why did Anali feel dread surfacing in the pit of her stomach?

In a surprising turn of events, their game was actually much more heated than Anali would have thought. She clearly did not give Virion nearly enough credit as he disserved. Not only was he able to counter with ease, he quickly took out most of Anali's units. However there was a large difference between the pair's strategies; Virion was willing to sacrifice as many units as possible to keep his commander safe.

"Wait hold!" she exclaimed. Her left hand pushed back her bangs in exasperation. "I-I need to… Damn…"

"If only you could if this weren't just a game," Virion said with a chuckle. He leaned back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. "But alas, this is war. And this is checkmate, my good lady."

"Blast!" Anali cursed as her forehead collided with the table. "Yes, yes, you win."

"I told you I was both a lion and a swan, did I not?" boasted Virion.

"More like a chicken and a donkey!" Anali snapped back, lifting her head from the table. "I may not be some noble lord, but your strategy wasn't exactly what I'd call honorable!"

"Heavens!" Virion gasped. "Aren't we plainspoken."

"Regardless, I appreciate the practice, and your assistance," Anali said, collecting the game pieces, and placing them into a small pouch. "But I need to get back on the training field."

"B-But, I've barely had time to gloat!"

"Ah, but in an actual war, the loser is never present to witness the gloating," Anali replied with a smug grin.

After collapsing the game board, Anali collected her belongings into her arms, then left the room with Virion pleading for another game. However she couldn't tell if it was because Virion found genuine enjoyment in their game, or because he wanted another opportunity to gloat. He even offered to help Anali with her archery in exchange for another game. Given that the last time Anali tried her hand at archery, Kellam nearly took an arrow to the knee, she almost took him up on that offer.

However, the last thing Anali wanted to do was lose the muscle she was beginning to build up because she spent so much time in her books and notes. She needed to keep training with the others, build up her skill, and keep her weight under control. As Fredrick said couldn't afford to let herself go with everyone else working so hard.

That evening Anali sat in a corner in the stable with a book Sumia lent her, with the young woman in question brushing one of the horses. According to Sumia the book was a modern retelling of a popular Valmese fairy story, but still managed to weave in it's own plotline. But at the moment, Anali found it a bit difficult to concentrate, as Sumia was listing off various horse-care tidbits.

"So do you have one of your own?" Anali asked. "A horse or Pegasus, I mean."

"Emmm… Not yet," said Sumia. "Haven't really quite found one that I'm in sync with."

"Oh…" Anali said thoughtfully.

There was a knock at the stable door, Chrom stood in the doorway. Sumia's eyes lit up at the sight. "Captain!" she said. Sumia only took one step forward before she stumbled.

Anali quickly got onto her knees and reached out for Sumia. Her arms hooked around Sumia's midsection, keeping her somewhat upright, but not on the floor. "Sumia!" Chrom gasped at the sight. He cleared his throat as his eyes wandered to the far corner. "Those boots of yours again?"

"No!" Sumia said, suddenly upright on her feet. "I mean yes! I mean…"

"Anything we can do for you Chrom?" Anali asked quickly.

"There is," Chrom said his eyes forward again. "In the morning the Shepherds will be marching to Regna Ferox."

"Regna Ferox?" questioned Anali. She heard of it a couple of times, but never got a good idea of what it was or where it is.

"A unified kingdom to the north of Ylisse," Sumia explained. "It's inhabited by barbarians… or so it's said."

"Warriors are what they are," Chrom corrected. "And with Plegia being more persistent and the growing number of Risen, Ylisse will be in need of their strength. Typically, the Exalt would request such aid in person, however given said rise in numbers… well, the people might worry should my sister suddenly leave the capital. So the task as been passed to us."

His eyes wandered to Anali. "This mission is voluntary, and I was hoping our tactician would-"

"Of course," Anali said beaming. "I'll have a few strategies ready should the worse happen."

Sumia rubbed the back of her head, her brow arched slightly. "Yes, Sumia?" asked Chrom.

"I-I'd volunteer," Sumia admitted, she started fiddling with her fingers. "It's just that… I'm not sure I'm quite ready for a proper mission just yet. I'd probably just get in the way."

"Well, I'm sure we can work it out so you could stay behind the main group if a battle is met," said Chrom. He turned to Anali. "We can arrange that, right?"

"Yeah, it should be no problem," Anali nodded.

"It's your choice, of course," Chrom said to Sumia. "But some lessons can only be learned on the battlefield."

The ash-haired woman avoided eye-contact with her prince and captian. "W-Well…" her voice trailed off. "If you think it wise, Captain."

"Just stay by me and you'll be fine."

"Oh, yes!" she blurted out, beaming. Sumia blushed upon realizing how rash she was, and tried to compose herself. "I mean - Yes, sir, I'll do that."

"Happy to hear that," smiled Chrom. "We'll be meeting at sunrise tomorrow for roll call, it will take us a couple of days to get to the Longfort. Oh, and, Anali," Chrom looked up at her. "Regna Ferox is rather infamous for it's year-round cold weather. So be sure to pack warmly."

Anali gave him a slight salute before the blue haired prince disappeared into the hallway. She looked back at Sumia with a wide grin, and shaking shoulders. "What?" Sumia asked puzzled.

Snickering, Anali placed the book in front of her face, as she bent over double. With her cheeks puffed up, Sumia threw the horse brush at Anali. "Glad one of us could find the humor in all that," Sumia huffed.

The next morning Anali stood outside of the garrison, a little surprised by the turnout. For starters, Lissa was amongst their numbers that day. Not to say she couldn't handle herself, but from what Anali understood Lissa would have died, or at least have been seriously injured, in the first Risen attack had it not been for Marth. It certainly explained why Lissa was so shaken up when Fredrick and Anali finally found them. But had that been Anali, she would have been a little apprehensive to go out on a march like this.

And then there was Liam. Reclusive, misanthropic Liam. To be honest, Anali didn't think he could fight, as she had never seen him on the training field. But there it was, a sword, in it's sheath, around his waist, with his lyre. Virion was also amongst their numbers, now dressed in the same attire he wore that night a month ago. Even Donnel was geared up and ready to go. The rest were to be expected, Sully, Stahl, Vaike, Miriel, Fredrick, and Chrom. Anali felt like there was someone else beside her and Sumia, but she couldn't think of who.

That night, according to Miriel, they were a little less than half-way there. It would take another day and a-half to get to the Longfort. They set up camp for the night, and when that was done, Anali sat herself in the mess tent flipping through the book of Feroxi history, hoping to find something that could come in handy. Around her a few of the others had engaged in a small arm-wrestling tournament. Things only got exciting when it got to Sully and Vaike, it really could have turned out either way, but Sully won.

The next day was filled with much of the same, to avoid boredom, Liam played a few pleasant songs on his lyre. Anali would have joined in with her ocarina, but she was afraid of overbalancing off the horse. In the end, it was for the best as Fredrick quickly yelled at him to stop while they were in the open like this. The last thing they needed was unwanted attention drawn in by the noise.

At camp that night Anali found herself conversing with Sully and Sumia about Sumia's 'flower fortunes,' a concept that was utterly strange to Anali. Sumia is faced with two options, then plucks off flower petals. "It's pretty much a 'he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not' thing, though," said Anali.

"What? It's kind of fun," Sumia defended.

The three walked across the campsite, as most of the Shepherds headed off to bed. "B-B-But-" Anali stuttered.

"Ah, just let it go, Anali," Sully said with a wave of the hand. "She's been doin' this sort of thing for years."

Outside the one of the women's tents the trio heard an odd gawking sound. Like a dying geese. They hurried into the tent, expecting to find a Risen ripping apart a poor animal. But it was just Lissa. Lissa was bent over double, arms wrapped around her waist, laughing so hard she was crying. "Gods damn it, Lissa!" snapped Sully. "I thought we were under attack or something!"

"Sorry… Sorry…" Lissa whizzed, as she stood herself up.

"What's got your feather's in a bunch?" asked Anali.

Breaking into another fit of laughter, Lissa pointed at the far end of the tent. Someone had pinned a portrait of Chrom… naked. In one hand he carried the Falchion, and a set of scales in the other. At the foot of the image were the words _'CHROM WANTS YOU.'_ "What the hell am I looking that?" Sully asked under her breath.

Lissa fell to her knees again, snorting all the while. Anali forced her eyes away from the picture, her thumb and forefinger pressed against her temples to she shielded her eyes. Sumia, on the other hand was stone still with a red face. "Oh, gods!" Lissa snorted. "This has Fredrick's handiwork written all over it!"

Behind them, the tent flaps fluttered as they were forced open. Chrom stood in the entrance, his face flustered with embarrassment; he carried a bundle of the portraits in his arm. His blush deepened at the sight of the girls as Lissa's laughter doubled. Without looking at the portrait, Anali tore it off the tent, then held it out to him. "You have something's you wanna talk about?" asked Sully.

"Sully!" Sumia squeaked.

Just when Anali was sure Chrom's face couldn't turn any redder, she was proven wrong. He snatched the portrait from Anali, and stomped out of the tent, muttering something about talking to Fredrick. "What the heck was that about?" asked Anali.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Sully.

In the morning there were a few murmurs about the posters Chrom retrieved from everyone's tents. There was a rumor floating around that it was Fredrick's attempts to boost morale. There was another rumor going around about a ghost that haunts the mess tent. The mess tent that was hardly in the same place twice. Anali found it ridiculous.

It was estimated that they would reach the Longfort by late afternoon, or early evening. Anali rode on horseback with Lissa. "So you're adjusting okay, yes?" the blonde princess asked. "Not too nervous about this mission?"

"Yeah," Anali nodded, even though Lissa sat in front of her. "I'm just the tactician. It's not like I'll be part of some big political debate."

"I dunno," said Lissa. "If things with Plegia and the Risen get really bad, you will need to be part of war meetings."

"Well, yea-"

"So there is a good chance Chrom would want you to meet with the Khan. If something goes wrong, you'll need to know what's going on."

Anali's brow creased, Lissa made a few good points, points that she hadn't quite thought of. But what's the worse that could happen in Regna Ferox? They had reason to fear the Risen too, they could benefit from this alliance just as much as Ylisse would.

She jumped slightly when Lissa pulled on the reigns of the horse, and they came to a stop. "Is that what I think it is?" Lissa asked, dismounting.

Anali followed Lissa's example without much grace. A malevolent creature stood in the opened field. It's wings drooped on either side of it, and its head bend low. There was a blotch of red on the creature's right wing that stood out against it's snowy coat. "It's a Pegasus, all right," Chrom said, walking up to the two. "I think it's hurt."

Slowly, he took a step towards the Pegasus. The creature reared back on it's hinged legs, letting out a shrill whinny as it kicked it's forelegs. Anali took a step back, her arms held up in front of her. Lo and behold, they very reason why she was nervous around horses. True, Anali felt like she had gotten better, having ridden them a few times, but if she was behind the reigns. Yikes.

"Down girl!" Chrom called, backing up with his hand held out in front him. "Easy there! Easy!"

"Milord," Fredrick spoke up. He looked about ready to grab Chrom should the Pegasus think of charging. "Perhaps there is another way to deal with this."

"Have you any suggestions, then?"

"Captain?" Sumia spoke up. She swung her leg over, dismounting Baldulf, then fetched something from her saddle bag. "If I may-"

She fell forward, just as she was about to approach Chrom. Effortlessly, Fredrick caught her before she could make out the blades of grass. "Careful, milady," Fredrick said, helping Sumia to stand upright. "It wouldn't be much help if you end up trampled."

"Eh, y-yes, of course," Sumia said with a blush. "Thank you, Fredrick." She turned back to Chrom. "As I was saying, Captain, I can take care of this."

Slowly walking up to the Pegasus, Sumia held her hand out to the mare, revealing a couple of sugar cubes. Sumia whispered a few soothing words to the Pegasus as she took a few more careful steps towards her. When close enough, the Pegasus sniffed at Sumia's hand before she took the sugar cubes into her mouth. With a slight smile, Sumia gently petted the mare on the muzzle. "There we go," she said sweetly. "That's a good girl. Shhh, I won't hurt you."

The Pegasus' wings relaxed, as it's breathing steadied. She allowed Sumia closer, to nuzzle her as the woman whispered her fear away. "Whoa," Anali breathed out. "How'd she calm it so quickly?"

"I've never seen anything like it," Chrom said in awe.

"Oh, it's… it's nothing," Sumia said with a blush on her face. "You just need to know how to talk to them. You all go on ahead. I'll dress her wounds and catch up as soon as we're able."

"We can make time to wait for you."

"Thank you, Captain, but I can manage," Sumia insisted. "Every moment is precious when all of Ylisse is in danger."

Chrom's brow creased, it didn't sit right with him to leave Sumia on her own. With what little they did know about the Risen, they were fully capable of attacking in the broad daylight. Sumia was fast, but how was she in battle? How capable was the very woman who was infamous for tripping over nothing? "Why don't we just let her catch up with us later?" Anali asked him in a hushed tone.

"Are you sure?" Chrom asked in reply. "What if-"

"Have you _seen_ Sumia ride?" Anali asked with a raised brow. "Once she gets it's injury dressed she'll catch up in now time."

The prince glanced back up at Sumia. The Pegasus seemed to have taken an instant liking to her, nibbling on Sumia's hair, prompting a small fit of giggles. True, Sumia was one of the best riders Chrom had come across. "Right, then," he said with a nod. "Be safe, Sumia."

"As you command, sir!" Sumia beamed as she gave Chrom salute.

* * *

><p>When they found the injured Pegasus, the air had steadily gotten cooler as the campaign traveled farther up north. In fact, when they left Sumia with the Pegasus, Fredrick called for everyone to get out their cloaks. Before too long they were in a snow-covered land. The trees were dusted with snow, the wind was frigid, and it was not too long before Anali felt like tiny knives were stabbing into her nose, cheeks, and ears repeatedly. Her nose was beginning to run, clumped up snowflakes got into her eyes. In front of her, Anali could feel Lissa shivering in spite of her fine, thick cloak, but Anali was shivering as well. She decided that snow was beautiful, but she did not like the cold.<p>

Her cloak bore some resemblance to the Plegian cloak she wore in the field. Black with gold accents. There was a part of Anali who wanted to bring the very cloak with her, but she decided better of it. If Regna Feroxi had problems with Plegia as well, then there was bound to be trouble if she waltzed in with the original cloak. So, the look-alike it was.

Up ahead of them, Chrom and Fredrick pulled to a stop. In front of them was a long, brick fortress, with it's iron gates closed. There were two, closed off, flights of stairs on either the left and the right, that lead up to the towering stronghold. Impressed, Anali's brow perked up, as she heard a low whistle in her mind. "So this is the fortress?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Yes, the Longfort," Chrom said; he looked over his right shoulder at her. "It stretches across the border of Ylisse and Regna Ferox."

"The Khans that rule Ferox have grown quite wary of foreigners," Fredrick explained, his voice carrying over to the rest of the campaign. "Don't mistake a lack of hospitality for open hostility. This simply calls for a bit of diplomacy."

"Negotiation's never been my strongest suit," Chrom murmured to himself. His horse took a few steps forward, then turned to the left. He spoke up, addressing the Shepherds. "Remember, everyone: your actions here reflect back upon Ylisse. So, I don't want to hear of anyone acting out, or provoking the Khan or his soldiers."

Anali bit the inside of her cheek, Maribelle's words from more than three weeks ago suddenly hit her like a sack of bricks. She was presentable, yes? Of course she was. And Anali wouldn't dream of either acting out or provoking. Odds were, when her duties were done for the day, she would just curl up somewhere warm and work on some new strategies.

Chrom dismounted his horse, then approached the front gate. "Halt!" a woman from the upper level shouted. One could see short blonde hair amongst her heavy, grey and green armor. "State your business!"

"In the name of House Ylisse, I seek audience with the Khans!" Chrom said, stepping forward with a firm, clear tone.

"Not another step, my bold lad!" the woman shouted, pointing a finger at him. "I've my lancers at the ready!"

Immediately, Fredrick urged Hermia forward. "Hold, milady!" called Fredrick. "We are not your enemy! Exalt Emmeryn herself sent us to discuss matters of mutual interest."

"My only interest is keeping your out of Regna Ferox, brigand!" snapped the woman.

"B-Brigand?!" stuttered Fredrick. He was actually about ready to throw diplomacy out the window. His prince and lord a bandit?! Perish the thought. "Now see here-"

"You think you're the first 'Ylisseans' to try to cross our border?" the woman asked, slamming a hand against the stone railing. She was all but yelling now. "I have the authority to fell such imposters where they stand!"

"How dare you!" Fredrick snapped, his own temper was beginning to wane. A rarity amongst missions like this. "You are in the presence of Prince Chrom, the Exalt's own blood!"

"Ha! And I'm the queen of Valm!" the woman replied mockingly. "You do realize impersonating royalty is a capital offense? Perhaps we should settle this the Feroxi way. You claim to be the prince of Ylisse? Then prove it on the battlefield!"

Chrom grit his teeth; this was just the sort of thing Emmeryn wanted to avoid. "Please, good lady!" Chrom pleaded in a last-ditch effort. "If you'd just listen-"

"I've heard quite enough!" the woman cut him off. She turned to her men on either side of her, then brought her arm downward like a falling axe. "Attack!"

And for a few agonizing seconds, everything had gone strait to hell.

A line of Feroxi soldiers stood along the edge of their stronghold. Each one holding a lance in their right hands. In perfect unison, they lifted their lances over their shoulders, and hurled them straight at Chrom. Anali's breath was caught in her throat. She needed to move, she needed to do something, she needed-

She needed to keep Lissa safe.

The yellow-clad princess leapt off their horse, and tried to run for her brother. Anali threw herself off, tackling Lissa to the ground. Lissa screamed, and thrashed against Anali's grip, even going as far as to bite her hand. It did not matter if Anali argued that Chrom, and by extension Emmeryn, wouldn't want Lissa in the line of danger like this. Or that the other Shepherds would be at his side before anything could happen.

Around them, Vaike, Sully, Stahl, and Kellam were already charging towards their prince with weapons brandished. Donnel was in a state of confusion, while the remaining three trailed close behind. Fredrick was the closest to Chrom, his horse was in full gallop.

And in a flash, Chrom was gone.

A shrill whinny caught everyone's attention, a lone pegasus glided through the air, with the prince seated right behind it's rider. Chrom's breath was caught in his throat, stunned by the sudden turn of events. He was two seconds away from withdrawing Falchion before the lances could strike. Even if he could have cut down a couple of them, he wouldn't have been able to prevent serious injury. Until the Pegasus rider grabbed a hold of him as they swooped down, that is. But the sudden rescue wasn't what surprised him the most, no, what surprised him was the rider.

"Sumia?" he questioned.

"Better hold on tight, Captain," Sumia said firmly, her eyes kept forward as she Pegasus thought the air. "Could get bumpy."

"Uh… right," Chrom said dumbly.

The young woman let out a slight chuckle before she looked back at her captain over her shoulder. "You'll be fine," she assured him.

All Chrom could really do at the moment was stare in awe of her. This was the same sweet, clumsy, demure girl he had known for quite a few years now. Now that girl was replaced with someone with such an air of confidence and conviction. Chrom fully knew Sumia's riding abilities was impeccable, on a horse. Sumia entered the Shepherds as a Pegasus Knight, taught by Phila herself, but Chrom had seen her fly so few times, he really did not know how skilled she was in the air. How could Chrom not see it before?

It was the line of Feroxi archers that broke Chrom out of his stupor. He did not know much about pegasi, but what he did know was that they were vulnerable to arrows. "Sumia!" Chrom said, drawing out Falchion.

"Right!" Sumia returned, pulling at the Pegasus' reigns.

The Pegasus glided down until she met with even ground when she stopped with a gallop. Lissa, taking Anali by surprise, got onto her feet and sprinted up to the Pegasus. "I'm so relieved I made it in time, Captain," Sumia breathed out as Chrom dismounted. Lissa nearly threw him to the ground with her running start and tight embrace.

"That goes double for me," Chrom replied, rubbing his sisters back. He looked back at the Pegasus she rode, and realized the creature looked awfully familiar. "This isn't the same ornery Pegasus we met on the road, is it?!"

Immediately, Lissa pushed herself away from Chrom to look at the mare. "Oh, yeah!" she said in awe. "Wow, she really calmed down since we last saw her."

"She's a sweetheart, isn't she?" Sumia smiled, running her hand through the Pegasus' mane. "Once you really get to know her, that is."

"Well, many thanks to you both," Chrom smiled at them both.

"And I think we had all best focus on the situation at hand," Fredrick said trotting up to the group. His face was red, and it most likely was not from the cold.

"All right," Chrom exhaled. "The Feroxi way it is. Anali, any ideas?"

The dark haired woman looked back up at the fortress. The gates were sealed closed, with the two upper doors opening very briefly to let a few soldiers out. Where was the woman? Probably somewhere in back, waiting. "We're going to want to box in the general, so to speak," said Anali. "Our best play is to split up into two groups, find our way up, then attack the general on both sides. It won't matter how many soldiers we take out, unless we take out _her_, that's what she'll want."

Anali quickly divided up the group into two, which was a bit difficult, due to the odd number of units they had. Stahl was in charge of keeping Lissa safe when she wasn't healing them. Virion would be at a bit of a disadvantage given that he could only really attack from a far range. "Sully," Anali said with her hands up in front of her. "I know you'll have some grievance with this, but I need you two to stick together."

In return, Sully shot Anali a nasty look, but did not argue. The last two people she wanted to pair up were Donnel and Kellam (once she remember he was there, that is). Donnel was still a little inexperienced, but Kellam was the best person Anali could think of to help the boy out.

The battle broke out when the Feroxi warriors made the next move. The most obvious thing to do now was to fight their way through the first wave. That wasn't going to be the hard part; the hard part would be to get through the doors. There was a chance that Sumia could fly up on her Pegasus, but the archers were sure to shoot her down before she could even get to the general. And there was the fact that the general would be no pushover. Whoever landed the finishing blow could not do it alone without the woman retaliating.

What Anali found genuinely surprising was that Liam was actually skilled with a sword. He carried it in a reverse grip, which alone impressed Anali. And he was graceful, his balance was impeccable. Was this normal for a Bard? She would have to read up on that later.

"Anali heads up!" Kellam shouted with a javelin in hand.

Obediently, Anali dropped to her hands and knees, and immediately wished she hadn't. Gods damn it, snow was cold!

The javelin sailed over Anali, striking a Feroxi soldier about to fire an arrow at her. Then Donnel came running up after the javelin, and finished off the soldier. "All right there, Miss. Anali?" Donnel asked, helping her onto her feet.

"Yes," Anali replied with a slight smile. "Thank you. Donny!"

She shoved the boy out of the way, and slashed at the oncoming soldier's arm. "Let's try not to loiter," Anali said, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Gives them the opportunity to attack."

Chrom bashed the soldier on the head with the hilt of his sword, then threw them to the side. He looked over his shoulder, the snow on the ground was beginning to stain with red. It would have been quite the sight to look at, if it wasn't for the bloodshed, ironically enough.

He spotted Anali, she was giving Miriel brief instructions as the two battled against oncoming soldiers with Fire and Thunder magic. And Chrom couldn't help but smile to himself as he stabbed another soldier. She had only joined them for two missions but it already felt like Anali had been with them for years. He supposed that was what the battlefield could do. _'The blood of the covenant was thicker than the water of the womb,' _after all.

Miriel ran as best as she could with her cloak, and her boots that were not made for snow. She nearly slipped twice, thankfully she was able to catch herself both times. Gods know what would have happened if she didn't. Opening her tome she hurled her hand behind her, fire hit the sword-wielding soldier that was once chasing behind her. Pleased with herself, Miriel pushed her glasses back into place, then continued on towards her destination.

A the foot of the stairs, stood a Feroxi soldier wielding a lance. They stood with their weapon at the ready. Miriel charged right towards him, her tome opened, balanced in the palm of her hand. A blast of fire materialized in front of her, and shot itself towards the soldier. He dogged, then pushed forward, aiming his lance at Miriel. The red-haired Mage slid to the side, following it up with another spell. The soldier fell to the ground, and began to roll around in the snow to put out the flames. He would be injured, but he wouldn't die. "Asinine knave," Miriel murmured as she picked up the fallen lance.

There was something silver tied to it, the key to the door. Just as Anali predicted. After removing the key, Miriel hurried up the flight of stairs to unlock the door. Over at the left-side door, Anali had successfully retrieved the key, and unlocked the door. She hardly had a moment to congratulate herself on a job well done, when a Feroxi soldier grabbed her by the ankle, and pulled.

Anali was swept off her feet, and cried out when her elbow slammed against the edge of a step. For a moment, her mind went blank and her vision went white. She forced herself to focus back on the battle at hand, then she could worry about her elbow later. Of course, now she was going to have to work with her left hand, this was going to be difficult. Anali narrowly rolled out of the path of the tip of the swords blade. The soldier lifted his sword again when blood squirted out from behind him. Gasping for breath, the man slumped to the side. "No loitering," Fredrick said, shaking blood off his lance.

Nodding, Anali forced herself up as Fredrick galloped past her. She followed close behind as the others began to ascend either flight. The Feroxi general shouted orders while her knights fought off against the Shepherds. It wasn't out of cowardice, it was the real test. If the Shepherds were who they claimed, then they should have been able to make their way towards her, and take her out. The Shepherds were renown in Ylisse for their strength, after all.

He overestimated the power of democracy, and therefore he made the error of leaving his axe back in Ylisstol. A mistake he would not make again. Fredrick drove his lance through the shoulders of many of Regna Ferox's soldiers. They attacked his liege, they could have killed, or at least seriously injured him, had Sumia not acted when she did. Fredrick should have been closer to Chrom before they even launched their lances. The best way to make up for this was to secure victory against the general, and get into Regna Ferox to the Khan.

Clicking his tongue Fredrick snapped the reigns, urging Hermia up the stairs. His lance cut though Feroxi soldiers as he made a B-line for General Raimi, one of the East-Khan's finest soldiers, if he had to take a guess. Loath as he was to admit it, Anali was right; they were not getting into Regna Ferox until they defeated Raimi.

The blonde haired woman watched the battle play out intently, her lance held right beside her, but she never moved once. Not until she saw the man on horseback in the corner of her eye. She blocked Fredrick's oncoming lance before it could do any damage to her. Raimi leapt back, then tore forward aiming her lance at the Great Knight. Fredrick encouraged his horse forward, his lance struck her before she could hit him. "Impressive," Raimi said pulling herself back up. "Not many bandits have made it this far. However it's not impossible."

Raimi and Fredrick exchanged and blocked several attacks. If he could just find a good opening he could successfully end this. It was as Sumia said before, every moment they wasted could cost Ylisse. Just one good shot and-

Pegasus feathers mingled with falling snow as swooped down, straight at Raimi. Sumia's lance grazed at Raimi's cheek, a thin cut quickly appeared. Dumbstruck by Sumia's sudden action, she failed to notice Fredrick's oncoming attack. His lance penetrated through Raimi's armor, and broke into her skin. Crying out in pain, Raimi dropped her lance, and fell onto one knee, she clutched her injury, panting. "Then your claims were… were true…" Raimi said breathily. She took a deep breath in, and rose to her feet. "Soldiers hold!"

Murmurs rose as Feroxi's soldiers lowered their weapons. Raimi slowly hobbled to the balcony to look out at the soldiers on both sides below. "A thousand apologies, Prince Chrom," Raimi said, her voice still strong and clear. "I truly took you for brigand impostors. But no frauds could ever wager battle as you and your men have! I will send word of your arrival to the capital and escort you there personally."

"That would be most appreciated, thank you," Chrom said with a nod.

Raimi saluted before she walked off. Slowly the Feroxi soldiers filed off, as the Shepherds regrouped. "Amazing," Anali muttered under her breath. Lissa stood beside her with her elbow in hand and her healing staff in the other. "Her whole demeanor changed."

"In Ferox, strength speaks louder than words," Fredrick said, dismounting his mare. He sighed. "I should have known better than to overestimate the value of diplomacy here…"

The light green glow from Lissa staff died down. She released Anali's arm, then rubbed her hands together, she had a few more to heal, but not in this cold. "Can we get going, Chrom?" asked Lissa.

"Yes," her brother replied. "It's not getting any warmer."

* * *

><p>Outside of Castle Ferox the Shepherds set up camp. Lissa told Anali not to strain her arm, as it would be sore for the next couple of days, and to rub vulnerary on it every morning and night before going to sleep. To Anali's dismay, Chrom, Lissa and Fredrick (well, more Chrom and Lissa than Fredrick) asked her to join them to meet the Khan. Wasn't it enough that she had kitchen duty that night?<p>

In reality, Castle Ferox was quite warm, but it felt so much colder than Ylisstol Castle. It was a dark brick building, its interior walls were untouched, and very few people inside. I made Anali homesick for Ylisstol. Raimi lead the way, having been taken care of by one of Ferox's own healers. Her injuries were not _too_, too serious. She lead them to the throne room where she turned back to the quartet. "Prince Chrom," she said. "Please wait here while I summon the Khan."

"Of course."

Anali watched Raimi's retreating figure, then asked, once she was out of ear shot, "The Khan is away?"

"Out training, I'm sure," said Lissa. "The Khan's of Ferox prefer battle to politics."

"Or rather, battle _is_ their politics," Chrom corrected.

"Ah," Anali said, putting on a weak, lopsided grin. "I can picture him now, a giant of a man of unparalleled thew. His broad chest covered in hair, as his tunic can hardly fit over his muscles."

"Am I now? Please, do go on."

Anali expression dropped as a her face started to turn very, very red. That was not a man's voice. A woman, a rather attractive woman at that, walked up to the four. Her skin was beautifully brown, her hair was a light shade of blonde, and pulled back into a wild ponytail. She wore dark red and white armor under a tight black leather dress. Anali wanted to go burry herself.

"You're the-?!" Chrom stuttered before he caught himself. He cleared his throat. "That is to say… The Khan, I presume?"

"One of them, yes," the woman replied. "I'm the East-Khan, Flavia. I apologize for the troubles at the border, Prince Chrom. You are welcome in Regna Ferox."

"Thank you," said Chrom. "But I'm confident we can put that misunderstanding behind us. Is it true bandits posing as Ylisseans have been ransacking your border villages?"

"Yes, those Plegian dogs!" Flavia spat back. "We found documents proving as much on the corpse of one of their captains. Plegia must seem some benefit in raising tensions between your kingdom and ours."

"Damn them!" snapped Chrom. "Ah… Forgive me, Your Grace. That was… indelicately put."

"Ha! Damn them and damn delicacy!" chortled Flavia. "Here in Ferox, we appreciate plain speech."

"In that case, you should have a word with your damn border guards…"

"Now that's Feroxi diplomacy! Yes, I like you already," Flavia said, clapping Chrom on the shoulder. Folding her arms, she cleared her throat. "I know why you come, Prince, but regrettably, I cannot provide any Feroxi troops for Ylisse."

"What?!" Lissa gasped. "Why not?!"

"I lack the authority."

"Huh?" Chrom asked without thinking. "But aren't you the Khan?"

"_One _of them, yes," replied Flavia. "In Ferox the Khans of the East and West hold a tournament every few years. The victor acquires total sovereignty over both kingdoms. And that means they have the final say when it comes to forging alliances. The West-Khan won the last tournament, you see, so…"

"Then we are to receive no aid?" Lissa's voice quivered.

"Not if you give up so easily!" snapped Flavia. "The next tournament just so happens to be on the morrow, you see, and I _am_ in need of champions."

"What does that have to do with us?" asked Chrom.

"Raimi informs me your Shepherds are quite capable," Flavia said with a sly grin. "Perhaps you would consider representing the East in the tournament? If you win and I become ruling Khan, I will grant your alliance."

Chrom thought about this for a moment. "I would have thought Ylisseans had no place in such Feroxi traditions," he said.

"On the contrary," Flavia said matter of factly. "The Khans themselves do not fight - they choose champions to represent them. Otherwise our land would be rife with blood feuds and dead Khans."

"I guess that makes sense," murmured Anali.

"We don't involve comrades or kin for the same reasons. Over time, it was decided the tournament should be fought by outsiders. Although that never included foreign royalty… that I know of. Regardless, it is your choice to make."

"There is no choice, East-Khan," said Chrom. "My people are desperate. We face not only Plegia's constant attacks, but now the added threat of the Risen. If fighting for you is the quickest way for an alliance, then we will take up our steel."

"Oh, I like you, Prince Chrom," laughed Flavia. "I do hope your survive the tournament. Come, I'll show you the arena where the tournament is held."

Anali fell back with Lissa, the poor girl was looking a little put out at the moment. "Are you alright, Lissa?" she asked.

"Em… Yeah, I guess," she said, fiddling with a lock of hair. "I just assumed it would be a little easier than this. I mean, what if something happens to Emm or someone else because we've been gone too long?"

"Well, I'm sure Phila will be fighting tooth and nail to keep the Exalt safe," said Anali. "And we still have a few of the Shepherds back in Ylisstol."

"I guess," Lissa rubbed her hands together. "I'll have to get used to these sort of things, I suppose."

Flavia showed them the arena, nice circular building that felt more welcoming that Flavia's domain. It helped Anali get a better idea of what the battle flow could be like, she was already beginning to size up the Shepherds, trying to figure out who should be in the arena tomorrow. If the West-Khan's champions were anything like Raimi at the gate, then Anali needed to think this thoroughly through.

But, sadly, she couldn't look through her notes just now. Not only did Fredrick want to squeeze in a little training, but Anali was on kitchen duty. And she had never really cooked before, from what she could remember, anyway. And it really did not help that everyone had their own preferences.

It was not until she started cooking them local game Donnel trapped and/or snared did Anali realized how tired she was. Of course she was, the day was long, and Flavia's soldiers were no pushovers. As she started chopping vegetables to add to the meat for a beef stew, Anali stifled a yawn. "Finished training for today, Anali?" Chrom asked, walking into the kitchen tent.

Anali looked over her shoulder. "Fredrick wanted me to get in a little combat practice," she said. "I _wanted_ to review a few battle histories before the tournament but…" She yawned again

"You should make sure to relax a bit," Chrom said, taking the mushrooms from Anali and started to mince them. "Put your feet up. Experienced soldiers rest when they can. With things getting a heated up between the kingdoms and Risen you never know when the next battle might break out."

"So I've noticed," Anali said, rubbing one eye. She flipped over the bits of meat, then nearly leaped back to avoid getting burned by flying blood or oil. Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked back at Chrom with a smile. "Don't worry. I'll try and rest when I can. A lady needs her beauty sleep, after all."

Guiding the knife down the onion he was working on, Chrom's eyes snapped open. He kept pushing, even after the knife made contact with the cutting board, and successfully snapped the blade off the handle. Chrom stared at Anali, looking at her as though she just sprouted a third eye.

Anali blinked. "What?" she asked. "Did I say something?"

"Er, no… I-It's nothing. It's just that…" Chrom said. He placed the broken knife on the counter, and grabbed a new one. He shrugged casually. "Well, I just didn't consider you the type to care about beauty and such… I suppose I've never really thought of you as a lady."

"_Excuse me?!_" Anali snapped turning away from the griddle.

If looks could kill, then the glare Anali was giving him would have incinerated Chrom on the spot.. Wow, she was mad. All he just said was… Oh… "No! I mean - I didn't mean - not like that!" Chrom blurted out. The food was now laid forgotten. "That is to say, a 'lady,' per se… eh… You know, how you fight and strategize, and… Not to say a lady can't fight, but… Gods, this is coming out all wrong."

'_Coming out all wrong' _indeed! Did Chrom actually think before he said anything? Anali could easily imagine Sully's reaction if she heard this. Sully would have been downright _pissed_. "Good gods, Chrom!" Anali snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She could feel a dull ache in her injured elbow, but it was easy to ignore. "You're the scion of the royal family, aren't you?! Didn't they teach you manners at your fancy-shmancy schools growing up?"

"Oh, gods, yes! Of course they did!" Chrom said, he almost sounded offended at the notion. His tutors were never the lively bunch. "We spent a whole term on etiquette!"

"Perhaps you could use another term, this time on how to talk with a lady."

"It's just my image of a lady is someone prim and proper!" Chrom stressed. He wasn't aiming to insult, far from it. If anything Anali should have taken that as a compliment. "You know, perfumed and pretty… Nothing like you at all!"

Anali scowled, then started to look through the frying pants handing off the counter. She took two of them into her hands and weighed them against each other. "When I look at you, I just don't see a 'lady.' Does that…?" Chrom's voice trailed off, as Anali held up the cast-iron pan. "Er, Anali? What… What are you doing with that?"

Her red eyes narrowed and traveled to the side to look at Chrom, as she held the pan like a sword. "I'm thinking a sharp blow to the head might help fix your eyesight," she said darkly.

Chrom's expression dropped. He held his hands up. "W-Wait! It was just a joke! Just a…" he insisted with a weak laugh. A couple of moments of silence pasted between them, until… "Gotta go!"

In a flash, Chrom was out the tent. Anali pushed the flap open, shouting, "Coward!" at the Prince's retreating form. Closing the tent, Anali threw her hand down. "The nerve of him!"

So because she was a fighter and a strategist, that was supposed to make her less of a lady? How rude! Well… in a way it was only fair. Anali easily forgot that he was technically a prince of Ylisse. And after a display like that, she definitely did not think of him as a gentleman. So they were even in that sense.

"But he didn't need to say it out loud," Anali mumbled to herself, her arms were crossed over her chest. She sniffed, was something burning? Eyes widening, Anali bolted for the food on the fire. "Damn it!"

While it was not spoken, it was unanimously agreed that they were not counting the days until Anali was on cooking duty again.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note: <strong>_'You should write a book; How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less.'_

Oh, come on, you can't tell me that you can't see Fredrick telling Chrom that. Also, you can't tell me that the F!MU/Chrom supports aren't based off the F!MU/Marth base conversations in _Shin Monshō no Nazo ~Hikari to Kage no Eiyū~_. You just can't.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six  
><strong>**The Two Falchions**

Sumia was the first one in her tent to wake up that morning. It was still early, not even dawn, but she just couldn't doze off again. She was nervous, not just for herself, but for everyone who could be in the arena today. From what Chrom recounted after his meeting with the East-Khan, it sounded like the tournament had a few bloodshed and deaths in the past. Even if death could be avoided, there was still the fact that Ylisse was depending on this alliance, they could not afford to loose.

She dressed herself in her tunic, skirt, and long gloves before she put her cloak and boots on. She decided to check up on the mare she more or less adopted, then check the armory tent to see if there was a sturdier lance she could use. No one really knew what Anali was planning, just that she was working out who to send into the arena, but it was always nice to be prepared.

She liked Anali, she was with Lissa when she said, that if Anali was planning something diabolical for Ylisse, then she would have done it already. A month was more than enough time after all. That's not even counting the fact that she never hurt anyone out of ill intentions. Of course there were a couple of incidences when training, but that was to be expected.

Sumia heard the stories about what happened in the Farfort, how Anali wanted to make sure the maidens those dastards had rounded up got to safety before they started attacking. How they had won by a simple distraction and stirring up a little confusion. Anali had been nice to talk to while Sumia tended to the Shepherds horses, and it was nice to discuss books with her.

Origins be damned! It would go against everything Ylisse stood for if they just tossed Anali aside when she needed help. Her friends situation was just horrible, she had to have a family that was missing her. Someone out there had to be missing Anali.

The mare, who Sumia had taken to calling Rosella, was very comfortable with the other horses in their little makeshift stable. What was curious, however, was that Rosella bore a striking resemblance to Sully's stallion, Baldulf. Perhaps there was some form of relation between them. Rosella's injury to her wing was fairly minor, however when the Shepherds found her, there were some pine needles and tree bark stuck to her, some of it was in the open wound. That was why she was so ornery.

After changing Rosella's bandages, Sumia scurried over to the armory, and was dumbstruck to find Fredrick already there. He was studying one of the lances before he placed it back on the rack. "Oh, Fredrick!" she gasped. "Good morning. What are you doing up so early?"

Somewhat surprised, Fredrick looked to see Sumia walking up to him. "Good morning, Sumia," he greeted with a slight smile. "I'm inspecting everyone's weapons and armor to ensure all is ready before the tournament."

"But it's not even dawn yet!" Sumia said in awe. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"I have sworn to serve Chrom and the Shepherds to the best of my ability," Fredrick replied with pride. "As commander, Chrom bears a burden far heavier than any of ours. It would ill behoove me to neglect any opportunity to lessen the load."

The admiration in Sumia's eyes was hard to miss. "He's fortunate to have you," she said with a broad smile. "Imagine getting up this early just to check gear!"

"I did not stir this morn simply to satisfy myself as to our battle readiness," Fredrick said matter-of-factly. With his eyes closed he began list off his morning activities. "I also exercised, preformed a number of weapon drills, and patrolled the camp. Then I stoked the fire, readied the makings for morning tea, and consumed one egg."

"Er…" Sumia wasn't quite sure of what to say anymore. She knew Fredrick went above and beyond with his duties, it was no secret. But this was taking it to an entirely different level.

"Oh," Fredrick gasped, opening his eyes again. "And I scared off a flock of noisy birds that were nestling too near milord's tent. Then, with no other pressing task, I took the time to inspect our equipment."

"Good heavens," Sumia said breathily. She was worn out just hearing all of that.

Fredrick stiffened. There were much better ways to converse with a young lady such as Sumia, he knew. And this was definitely not one of them. "Apologizes, my lady," he said after clearing his throat. "You must find my prattle to be terribly dull. I have often been criticized for what some consider to be an excess of zeal. Such devotion appears to make my comrades uneasy."

"No, no!" Sumia shook her head. She held her fists close to her chin as she beamed. "I think it's wonderful!"

"You do?" Fredrick asked, stunned. This was certainly a first for him.

"Absolutely!" said Sumia. "You're an inspiration, Fredrick. There's just no other word for it. Look at all you do for Chrom!" Slowly, Sumia's expression dropped, her bravado was not quite diminished, but it certainly wasn't the same as it was before. "It makes me wish I was more like you. I'm so sick of being the girl whose main contribution is falling on her face. I know we all need levity in these times, but I would still prefer to do more."

"I don't know what to say," a flattered Fredrick said. "You're the first person who has ever understood what I'm trying to do. Perhaps we should join our causes to each other. We should be the grease that keeps the Shepherds running smoothly."

Sumia's smile perked back up. "Now _that's_ a splendid idea!"

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, more and more of the Shepherds were beginning to wake. Virion woke up to the sight of Liam, sitting up in his cot, writing something on a piece of parchment pressed against his knee. "What have we got here?" asked Virion. "Ice cold Liam writing to his sweetheart?"

Glaring, Liam slowly looked Virion straight in the face. "Do I look like some love-struck idiot, Ruffles?" he asked.

"Well, I would not say 'love-struck,'" murmured Virion. Grinning, he said out loud, "No need to be shy, dear Liam. If anyone knows the passion stirred up by a beautiful woman, it is I."

"I believe you mean 'the _lust_ stirred up by beautiful _women_,'" Liam corrected dryly.

"Your words cut deep," sighed Virion. His head hung low in defeat.

With a roll of his eyes, Liam turned his attention back to his work. In a flash, Virion reached over, and snatched the parchment from Liam. "Bastard!" Liam snapped, his tone was loud to wake Stahl, and Kellam.

"I'll give it back," promised Virion. "I just want to look."

A flash of anger tore through Liam's eyes. He nearly leapt across to Virion's cot, and they both came dangerously close to toppling over. The blonde man tore the parchment from the archer's hand; standing up, he stuffed it into the collar of his nightshirt. Liam pulled on his boots, and stomped out into the frigid air without anything else on.

Stahl let out a low whistle. "Gotta be the first time I've ever seen a reaction like that out of him."

"Well, then," said Virion. "In that case, I am accomplished."

"Not really something to brag about," murmured Kellam.

In the mess tent, a light breakfast had been prepared, courtesy of Fredrick, with a little help from Sumia. The tournament would be held at mid-day, until then they were encouraged to do some training, but not to overexert themselves. Vaike had set up a practice dummy, and got out a dull axe. He did not quite know what the tactician had in mind for the arena, but he needed to keep himself busy until the tournament starts either way. He hated waiting. Especially if it was something as important as creating alliances.

"Would you be so kind as to put an end to your caterwauling?" Miriel spoke up, startling him slightly. "I'm trying to read, but I can't hear myself think over you incessant grunting."

The red haired mage had on her thick winter cloak, and her wide rimed hat, as always. And, naturally, a book in hand. If Miriel was not doing experiments, she was most likely reading. In all the time Vaike had known Miriel it was no secret that she had a bit of a 'gift' for walking around while she was in the middle of reading something. The only reason she had not lost her head yet was because of the Shepherd's pulling her out of trouble.

Vaike simply grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "You gotta give it your all when ya train," he told her. "Or it's just a waste of time."

"Hm…" Miriel adjusted her specs as she thought. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. The explosive release of air from the lungs generates power in peripheral muscles."

"The peri-what mussels now?"

"And rapid spin attacks create centripetal force that increases over all speed. Fascinating! I imagine you used complex calculus to optimize your methods?"

"Lady, from what you just said I understood 'fascinating,' and that's about it," Vaike said rubbing the back of his neck.

"Surely you developed these skills of yours by calculating the forces involved?" Miriel asked inquisitively.

Vaike waved his hand at this. "I don't need a buncha math mumbo jumbo," he insisted. "I do it all by instinct!"

"Irrational means have yet taken you to a rational technique," murmured Miriel. Gripping her chin, she thought about it for a moment. "Fascinating. Perhaps this 'instinct' of which you speak bears further investigation."

"Fightin' a war ain't rational, lady," Vaike informed her. "Just watch me in the next battle. Can't really show off what I got against something that can't attack back."

"Very well," Miriel replied as she snapped her book back open. "I shall do just that."

If there was a morning to distract yourself with something or other, this was the morning. Let it be brushing up on one's skills or just taking up a light activity. Donnel was trying to do a little bit of both. While he would not deny that being one of the Shepherd's was quite the experience, he felt like there was more he could be doing. He was never that strong a fellow, but what if he wasn't meant to be that sort of soldier?

He had tried a couple of different things with the others. Archer, swordplay, even asked Anali about her strategizing whats-its. This morning, Donnel got the idea to try looking into magic, like that stern-looking lady Miriel, or that kid Ricken. So while Miriel was out, Donnel took a peek at her scrolls (not stealing them, just borrowing). It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the problem? He could not read hide or tale of anything. Oh, sure, some things he could read, but he didn't understand it. And some of it was just gobblygook.

Donnel wasn't quite sure how long he had been sitting there in the mess tent, trying to make sense of the scroll, but his frustration was quickly reaching the point where he was about ready to tear the thing in half. "Donny, settle down," Stahl said, placing a teakettle, and a couple of cups on the table. "I can practically see smoke rising from your head. Why don't you take a break and have a soothing cup of nettle tea. It's a little bitter, but it'll settle your nerves if you can keep it down."

"Thank ya kindly, Stahl," Donnel said as his senior poured him a cup of tea.

"Think nothing of it," he said while pouring himself a cup. Placing the kettle down, he took a sip. "Now, once you're calm, then start thinking about what kind of soldier you want to be."

Donnel almost choked on his tea when Stahl said this. "How'd ya know that's what I was doin'?" he asked. "I ain't said nothin' about it to ya."

"Back at the garrison, you were picking locks, then you were practicing archery," Stahl explained casually. "Now I find you attempting to decipher a scroll to 'smite thine enemies with fire.' Either you're incredibly bored, or you aren't satisfied with your current role."

"Welp," sighed Donnel. "I s'pose the cat's outta the bag now…" He thought for a moment, before his brows rose in interest. "Hey, Stahl. Yer pretty clever. What do ya reckon I should do?"

Stahl thought for a moment, his cup warming his hands. "Well, I don't know anything about tomes or magic staves," he confessed. "But I'm a keen student of weapons, especially sharp ones. You could do what I did and watch the experienced sellswords and knights."

Donnel shot onto his feet with a broad smile on his face. "And then I could learn what weapon might work best for me!" he exclaimed after he slammed his hands onto the table. "Gosh, that's a dilly of an idea! And I've done got the perfect opportunity today!"

Immediately, the village boy put his winter cloak back on. He gathered the scroll into his arms while Stahl said over him, "Wait, Donny, it's not enough to just pick a weapon you like. You need training and-" But Donnel was already outside. "And he's gone…"

Staring straight ahead, Stahl took another drink from his bitter tea. Their newest recruit was quite the eager one. However Stahl could not quite decide if that was a good or bad thing just yet.

* * *

><p>Khan Flavia was already waiting by the arena come time for the tournament. She looked out over the arena with her arms crossed over her chest by the time Chrom and the others arrived. "Just a warning, Prince Chrom," Flavia said without looking over her shoulder. "I hear an equally able swordsman champions the West-Khan."<p>

"He shall be defeated by Ylisse's necessity," Chrom replied unwavering.

"Well spoken," said Flavia. She looked over her shoulder with a broad smile. "I look forward to seeing if you're equally skilled with a blade!"

On the ground floor, just outside the arena's boundaries, Anali rallied up the units she wanted out in the arena with her and Chrom. While the West-Khan had nine units on their side, Anali picked five (and Chrom) for this battle. "Are you sure that's wise?" Fredrick asked her. "These are not bumbling bandits, they're the best the West-Khan has to offer."

"Do you doubt our army, Fredrick?" Anali asked him.

"Of course not!" Fredrick snapped back, almost offended that Anali would suggest such a thing. _He_ was the one who trained most of them, after all.

"Good," the dark haired woman smiled. "We'll be just fine then."

And the five units? Anali herself, Fredrick, Sully, Vaike, and Virion. If Anali were to rank the Shepherds in strength and skill, Fredrick, Sully and Vaike would certainly be in the top five. And Anali was pretty sure all three of them would take offence if they were not.

The rules for the tournament were simple. The East and West Khan's chose their champions, and the duked it out in arena. The side whose champions were all taken out either loses, or forfeits power. There were ways units could be removed from the arena. Either they step over the arena boundaries, or if they drew enough blood that they need an immediate healer. Or, in worse case scenario, if they are killed, but in recent years they _tried_ for less deaths. Of course, sometimes, in the heat of competition it could not be helped, but if Anali had a say in it, anyone fighting for the East-Khan and Ylisse would not be taking any lives.

"I think we should be okay," Anali said while she pushed her bangs back with one hand. "If the East-Khan's men are anything like Flavia's yesterday, then I want Lissa to be ready when someone is taken out."

"Mm-hm, mm-hm!" Lissa nodded with a small smile.

The East-Khan's champions stood on the opposite end of the arena as Regna Ferox's citizens began to file in. Apparently the tournament was an annual, much anticipated, spectacle. It was do or die time. "Chrom!" Lissa exclaimed grabbing her brother by his sleeved arm. "Look!"

"I see him," Chrom said, somewhat darkly.

"Hn?" Anali exhaled. She looked forward to find a familiar young man in blue, with a butterfly mask. "What?"

As far as Anali had heard, there wasn't much news on Marth and his whereabouts after the Risen first arrived. What was he doing in Regna Ferox? Anali bit her lower lip, that night Lissa found herself cornered by an axe-wielding Risen. Chrom wouldn't have been able to make it in time, but, thankfully, Marth was.

Anali shook her head, she was worrying over nothing. If Chrom defeated Marth in battle it would be because this was a tournament, not out of malice or disrespect. In fact, he would undoubtedly insult Marth if Chrom held back. "Marth!" Chrom called projecting his voice. "One question, before we begin?"

Marth said nothing. His expression was unreadable. "Fine, then," Chrom said to himself before he spoke louder, "Our swords can speak for us!"

Standing firm, Chrom removed Falchion from it's sheath. Almost immediately after Marth took out his own sword; a blade, exactly identical to the Falchion.

"What the hell?!" Sully exclaimed. She was shocked, _actually shocked_. Sully Rivers, the woman to end all men, the woman with nerves of steel, and a snarky comeback always up her sleeve, was at an utter lose for words.

"What?" Anali asked, she looked up at the red-head.

"It's gotta be a fake," Vaike said, shaking his head. He may as well have just seen someone's ghost. "It's gotta be."

"_What?_" stressed Anali.

"The Falchion is one of Ylisse's treasured heirlooms," Fredrick explained. He was calm, compared to the others, but just as confused as Anali. "Used by the first Exalt to slay the felldragon, Grima, and said to have been used by the Hero-King himself." Fredrick looked Anali in the face. "There's one in existence, owned by the Ylisse royal line."

Chrom did not notice Marth's sword the night the Risen arrived, not when he was so focused on saving Lissa. Marth sheathed his blade as soon as the Risen were gone, Chrom never got a good look at it. This did not make sense, the Falchion was not an easy sword to replicate, as it was forged from Naga's fang, or so the legends say.

"Where did you get that?" asked Chrom. Still Marth did not reply. It couldn't be the real Falchion, it couldn't be wielded by just anyone. Unless… Chrom forced the notion out of his head. "There's no way…"

Darting forward, Chrom leaped into the air to build momentum. He balled himself up and began spinning at rapid speeds as he made his descent. Snapping back to his full height, Chrom's sword clashed with Marth's, as he landed safely, creating small sparks when Marth blocked the attack.

The two exchanged blows creating more sparks when their swords collided. Marth was certainly a skilled swordsman, who managed to work around his obvious disadvantage. It was easy for anyone to see that Marth did not have the strength Chrom had, the prince dwarfed him by a full head. Yet, Marth worked around this in a way that looked so effortless, _'looked' _being the keyword.

"Tell me," Chrom said as Marth's blade pushed against his. "Who taught you to fight like that?"

In unison, they leapt back a few meters. Gathering their bearings, both swordsmen pushed forward, their Falchion's scraping against each other. Sliding to a stop, Marth leapt into the air, perfectly mimicking Chrom's earlier, gravity-defying spin attack.

"My father!" Marth shouted, while he made his descent.

Chrom skillfully dodged Marth's attack before he could strike. The masked boy's sword struck the floor, he stood up, staring at the Shepherds. "Let us fight with honor," Marth declared. "May the best soldier win!"

"Hot damn," Sully muttered under her breath. "Looks like Chrom may have found his equal."

"Marth is a gifted swordsman, and his men look capable as well," Anali agreed. She bit the pad of her thumb and rolled her eyes to the side before she shrugged. "Not that that observation is actually helpful. Perhaps it's best we-"

She was cut off by Vaike and Sully's battle cries as they sprinted into the arena, after the West-Khan's champions. Resisting a sigh, Anali withdrew her sword, and entered the fray. She was a bit impressed, and if not a little envious, with how balanced the West-Khan's men were. Two generals, two mages, two fighters, and three swordsmen.

The metallic _cling, cling's_ echoed across the arena, drowned out only by the cheering crowd. Eight out of the nine championing the West-Khan fought amongst the Shepherds. Marth stood in the back near the arena boundary, his arms crossed over his chest, presumably watching the battles play out intently. Anali quickly realized that Marth may have very well taken a page out of Raimi's book.

Marth was the real challenge.

Because there was an effort made to avoid deaths, Anali had given Virion the specific instruction to watch his comrades backs, but avoid hitting their opponents vital organs. He was truly gifted with a bow and arrow (and possibly tactics as well, but Anali chose to ignore that), and was far more clever than he chose to let on. It would have been child play for Virion to make a kill shot.

It was the two mages that Virion had to look out for. He was willing to wager that they were either on par with their own Miriel, or they utterly blew her out of the water. Of course, they would have to be the best of wherever the came from if the West-Khan chose them for the tournament. But with an arrow to the hand, the mages would not last much longer.

Vaike was going head-to-head with one of the swordsmen. He was a tall fellow with shaggy black hair and clothes that looked like they came straight from Chron'sin. The Vaike so rarely gave others compliments, but this man was very, very skilled. It would not have surprised him if this man was second-in-command to that Marth character, after all it was difficult for Vaike to get in a good hit. Loath as he was to admit it, Teach needed a little help.

And help came to him in the form of Anali, of all people. Vaike's thoughts and opinions on the woman were a secret to no one. He did not like Anali, he did not trust Anali. And here she was coming to his aid. He did not ask for help, she was just there.

There was a part of Anali that mentally berated herself. She still was not all that confident in her abilities with a sword. And this dark haired man clearly had years of training under his belt. But Vaike was struggling, he needed help. The swordsman blocked Anali's attack with great expertise. There was a moment, when their swords met, that Anali noticed something about the mans eyes. Not his face, that remained straight and calm, but his eyes, his pupils shrank. What got that reaction?

Quickly, the swordsman drew his arm back, and struck Anali's sword. The force prompted a flurry of sparks into the air, as a _clang, clang_ was heard. Anali looked down at her blade, she paled. There must have been a crack in it that she did not notice as her sword was broken in half. She had it on her since she first woke up, and now she wasn't quite sure if she wanted to weep for her loss, or cut her losses and run.

The battle cry Vaike released as he swung his axe into the swordsman's side was enough to startle both of them. The force of the blondes attack was enough to knock the West-Kahn's swordsman off his feet. His tunic had been cut open, and blood was beginning to seep out from the newly opened wound. The swordsman held up both hands, signaling his yield, and out.

Vaike exhaled as the swordsman disappeared off the arena, and out of sight. Anali took a moment to study her ruined sword. When she thought about it, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. It was not the most sturdiest of swords. Looks like she was sticking to tomes until she could get a new one.

She looked up at Vaike, half-expecting him to tell her that he could have handled it on his own, or to simply butt out. But instead, he gave her a very small smile. Seeing this, Anali could not help but smile herself, and allowed herself to hope that things between them would begin to improve.

The West-Khan was down both fighters, a mage, a knight, and two swordsmen. Virion had taken the fighters out with a couple of arrows in the knees (something he would later say Anali inspired, much to her embarrassment). One of the Mages hardly stood a chance against Sully, there was a reason Anali chose her to fight in this tournament after all. The Knight was unfortunate enough to battle against Fredrick, with his fellow soldier being the next one on the chopping block.

The West-Khan's second mage fell to the floor, his tome laid out in the open, forgotten. The man gripped his leg, which was bleeding profusely. His opposite arm had also been cut into. He looked up at Prince Chrom, the very man who struck him down, almost expecting him to finish the job. But, instead, Chrom turned to look straight at Marth, his sword freshly redrawn.

Marth, and by extension his father, were quite the swordsmen. It had been quite a while since someone really made Chrom have to put his all into it. "Who is your father?" he asked Marth.

"I've said enough for one day, sir," the masked man said curtly, he turned his head to the side, as though he were trying to avoid eye contact.

"Is that how it is?" Chrom asked in reply, almost thinking out loud. "Lissa owes you her life, and for that you have my gratitude. But within these walls, I represent the East-Khan and the interests of Ylisse. I can't promise to stay my blade, but I vow not to shame you."

Marth sneered. "Never expected such youthful arrogance," he admitted. "We shall see who shames who!"

And then he broke forward. There was not much difference between the two in skill and power than when the tournament first began. Marth was able to predict and counter Chrom's oncoming attacks, and vice versa. It made Chrom all the more curious about Marth's father, he certainly seemed like a man that was worth meeting.

But, now was not the time for such thoughts and desirers. Right now he needed to find an opening, and take out Marth. But Marth would just predict what Chrom had planed for him. At this rate, the only way either of them was going down was because they both collapsed from exhaustion.

Chrom spotted orange-yellow lights flickering in the corner of his eye. Volts of electricity struck at Marth square in the chest. He stumbled back onto his knees, using his sword as a cutch while he breathed. Immediately, Chrom ran up to Marth, a sliced an open wound into his bust. "Impressive…" Marth rasped, slowly, he got back onto his feet. His arms covered the wound. "If not surprising…"

Chrom looked over his shoulder, Anali was busy sliding her tome back into its sling. She had on a rather cheeky smile. "Sorry, was he yours?" she asked.

"No, no," Chrom smiled, waiving his free hand. "All yours."

The West-Khan's champions fell like flies after Marth yielded. Virion suffered a few burns on his hand from one of the mages. Fredrick's armor had a dent in it; Anali pitied the man who did that. And Vaike had been nicked in the abdomen, Virion's hand had gotten the worst of it, not helped that he still fired arrows with the burn. Lissa was not afraid to smack him on the shoulder for that. She was able to heal him, his hand would be as good as new, given Virion did not use it for a few days.

The crowd was still abuzz when the tournament was over, some of them even whispered that they hoped the Ylissens would be fighting for Flavia next tournament. However, no one was as ecstatic as Flavia. By the time she approached Chrom, Lissa was looking over her brother, and Anali.

"Well fought!" Flavia beamed as she slapped Anali on the back getting a muttered _'ow' _out of her. "You have my respect. And, perhaps more to the point, you have your alliance. I will provide Ylisse with the soldiers she needs."

"Truly?" Chrom asked her, trying to keep his voice under control. The last thing he needed was to come off as an excited schoolboy. "Thank you, East-Khan."

"I should thank you!" Flavia corrected, she winked at Chrom before stretching her arms above her head. "It feels like ages since I've held full power. Come, my new friends! Tonight, we celebrate!"

Flavia ran off towards the exit door, she plowed into one of her soldiers, and wrapped her arm around their neck. As they disappeared through the corridor, Flavia could be heard shouting about cracking open their finest mead. "Bah," scoffed a tall, muscular black man. "Any excuse for a party, and Flavia jumps on it…"

Anali tried to repress a shutter as soon as she saw the eye patch over what would have been his left eye. The man looked like a seasoned warrior, if the muscles, and armor did not imply such a thing already. "I'm sorry, have we met?" asked Chrom.

The man pointed to himself with his thumb. "I'm Basilio," he explained. "The West-Khan you so rudely removed from power!" Basilio cleared his throat. "You're handy with a sword, boy. I thought for sure I'd picked the stronger man."

"What do you know about him?"

"You mean that 'Marth?' He's just some sellsword with delusions of grandeur," Basilio explained. "All I know is that he turned up one eve and knocked my old champion flat." He suddenly started beaming. "It was love at first sight, and I'm generally too old for such things!" he laughed. "Anyway, he's gone now. Up and fled the moment the tournament ended."

Anali's brow rose. Marth left without seeing a healer? Hopefully that was a sign that her spell and Chrom's attack did not do much damage to his chest. But then again, he could have insisted he walk it off because stupid pride got in the way. "He's so dark and mysterious," Lissa sighed dreamily.

Anali couldn't help but grin. "Sounds like Marth's got at least one fan," she said, nudging Lissa with her elbow.

The blonde princess looked up at her. "Well, I mean, c'mon, he _is_ sort of dreamy, isn't he?"

"And _you're_ sort of dreaming!" Chrom chided.

"Yowch!" Lissa flinched in fake pain. "Lighten up, Big Brother. I was just kidding."

"One last thing, boy," Basilio spoke up. "Before you go, I have a little present for you."

At Basilio's side, a young man with dark hair stood. Anali immediately recognized him as the same man who fought against Vaike during the tournament. "This is Lon'qu, my former champion," Basilio said, lacing an arm around Lon'qu's shoulder. "Not much for talking, mind you, but he's peerless with a sword. As good as Marth, in my mind. To be honest, I can't figure out how Marth bested him so quickly."

"Marth beat him?!" Lissa gasped, a hand just touching her lips. "But he looks so big and strong…"

Lowering her hand, Lissa took two steps forward, towards Lon'qu. Perhaps she intended on introducing herself, and welcoming him. But instead, Lon'qu took a large step back, snapping, "Away, woman!"

Startled, Lissa's pigtails almost stood up on end. "Wh-What did I say?!" she gasped.

Basilio threw his head back, laughing. "Let's just say that ladies tend to put Lon'qu on edge," he explained. "Nonetheless, he is capable. Perhaps he even has the making of a Khan. Consider him West Ferox's contribution to the Ylissean cause."

Chrom arched a brow. "You're certain about this?"

"Yes, yes," Basilio said waving a hand. "He's your man now."

"And Lon'qu?" Chrom asked the dark haired man. "You have no objections?"

"He gives orders. I stab people," Lon'qu said bluntly. "I think our roles are clear."

Chrom looked over his shoulder at Anali. She shrugged in response. What was he looking at her for? He was the one in charge, Anali just created strategies and tried to keep everyone's arses safe. "All right then," Chrom nodded. He held his hand out to Lon'qu. "Welcome aboard."

* * *

><p>Anali stared forward, she held a tankard in her hand, starting to feel a little warm. Flavia, feeling particularly generous, according to the messenger, had given the Shepherds a keg of ale, some of their best meat, vegetables, fresh bread, figs and chocolate for their little army to have their own celebration. They had a fine feast that night, and opened the keg.<p>

Memories or not, Anali was pretty certain she had never had any sort of alcohol before. The ale tasted a bit fruity with a hint of spice in it. She had drained a little less than half her tankard, and already felt warm, while the others, including Sumia, of all people, were on their second helping.

If Anali was to be honest, she was not quite sure what sate she would currently be it, if not for the bear meat she wolfed down. She liked it much more than she originally thought. What would this have tasted like when dried into jerky, she wondered.

She sat with Stahl, Sully, Donnel, Vaike, and Liam. Sully's face was redder than Anali's, and was on her third tankard of ale. "I think you had enough," Liam said, taking the tankard from her. "Anymore and I'm sure you'll embarrass yourself, and the army."

The redhead pouted uncharacteristically. The woman to end all men was gone.

Did Liam do that for Sully's well being, or to save face, Anali wondered. She popped a small chocolate ball into her mouth. It melted in her mouth, and ran delightfully down her throat. Something caught her eye, Lon'qu had gulped down a mug of water, then walked out of the mess tent as he unsheathed his sword. "What'd you guys make of that Lon'qu character?" Anali asked.

"Him?" Vaike asked, gesturing to the flapping door. "Another lone wolf. We've got enough of those."

To get his point across, Vaike gestured to Liam. The Bard either did not care, or did not catch the jape, as he said nothing in response. "He doesn't seem to like women that much," said Kellam. Anali nearly leapt out of her seat. She plum forgot he was even there. "Like he's afraid of them."

"I don't think that's it," Stahl said before he bit into a fig. "Not completely. There's a bit more to it."

Anali bit the inside of her cheek. So she wasn't just seeing things in the arena, Lon'qu really did show a hint of fear when she intervened. His little gynophobia could prove to be a problem when it came to working with the female's in the Shepherds. They were going to need to fix that, or at least work around it. They could not just keep Lon'qu away from the women, it just wasn't possible. But maybe they could just help him take his mind off the fact that he's working with a woman.

It might be the alcohol talking, but Anali was getting an idea.

Getting up, Anali slid her arms through her cloak sleeves, and scooped up the bowl of figs. There were a few murmurs of protest, which ended with Sully finally conking out. Anali assured them she was putting the figs to good use. Once out of the mess tent, she went straight to the armory tent, and got out a bronze sword. They were usually used for training, so Anali planed on putting it back afterwards. Sometime after returning to Ylisstol, she would have to go to the blacksmith.

She found Lon'qu, right where she expected to find him, in front of one of the practice dummies, working on a couple of moves. "Hey!" Anali said, half-jogging into the training field. "You know, I find it better to train with a living person. But, you know what, you've got a volunteer. You'll go easy on me, won't you?"

Anali withdrew the bronze sword, hoping that the bow of figs was concealed by the fabric of her cloak. "Hmph," grumbled Lon'qu.

Her brow arched. "Was that a yes or a no?" she asked. Anali shrugged. "Doesn't matter, let's get on with it!"

She broke forward, swinging the sword at the side. Lon'qu dodged effortlessly, hardly flinching, hardly blinking. She quickly learned that using one arm, while trying to keep the figs from spilling over wasn't her most brilliant of ideas. As a result, Anali nearly fell face-first into the snow. "Hehe!" giggled Anali after she stood herself upright. "You're as good as they say!"

"Thank you," Lon'qu breathed out.

The dark haired woman puckered her lips out in a pout. "But not even bothering to raise your sword?" she asked. "That's a bit condescending, don't you think?"

"Swordplay is a man's pursuit," said Lon'qu. He turned his back to Anali, with a hand hovering over his sword handle. "What does a woman know of- WHA-?!"

_Pow! _

Quickly, Lon'qu looked over his shoulder to face Anali, his hand pressed against the back of his head. Anali stood smiling innocently, as she rocked back and forth on her heels. "What in blazes are you doing, woman?!" Lon'qu demanded. He looked down at the snow, where the object that hit him landed. "Why are you… throwing… figs?!

"If you can't get close to a foe, you must engage him at long range," Anali said matter-of-factly, she put her sword hand onto her hip. "Basic tactics, really, I'm surprised you'd be unfamiliar with them."

"Well, no matter," Lon'qu said, brushing snowflakes and fig guts off his shoulder. "It not as if you'll ever hit me with one-"

"Ooooh! That sounds like a challenge!" Anali beamed. "All right, twinkle toes. Dodge this!"

She grabbed another fig from the bowl, and hurled it at Lon'qu. Followed by another, and another, and another. "S-Stop it!" he shouted, shielding himself with is arms.

"We have to… get close," Anali said in between throws. "To… train properly!"

With each step back Lon'qu took, Anali followed, with another fig. This couldn't keep up, Lon'qu told himself, she had to run out eventually. But after getting whopped in the head one too many times, he had enough. He was a well-respected myrmidon! "I won't stand here to be pelted with fruit by a madwoman!" Lon'qu snapped at her. "I'm leaving!"

"Coward!" Anali shouted at his retreating figure. She grabbed another fig. "You get back here!"

She broke off into a run, chasing after Lon'qu, and still throwing figs at him. Eventually, he started running across camp, shouting obscenities at Anali, and calling her a madwoman more than once. They passed Fredrick's tent, just as the man in question stepped out. His armor had long since been removed, and odds were, he was about to remind the Shepherds not to get carried away with the drinking, and that it was almost time for lights out.

He watched the scene play out in confusion, their newest recruit running through camp, and their tactician chasing after him with a bowl of figs. "Anali," Fredrick called after the pair ran by him a second time. "What, in Naga's name, are you doing?"

"Testing a theory!" shouted Anali.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> So we've got moment's between characters, tournament begins, 'Marth' shows up again with his own Falchion (!), Anali's sword breaks, Flavia becomes reigning Khan, and alliances are made. Basilio introduces himself (and you cannot convince me that SOMETHING isn't going on between Flavia and Basilio), the gang meet's Lon'qu, drinking ensues, and Anali chases Lon'qu while pelting him with figs. Yaaay!

I actually like to think Basilio sent Lon'qu with the Shepherds to help him with is little 'problem' with women. I mean, since most of Lon'qu's ending's have him going back to Regna Ferox, and back to Basilio.

Reminder about my tumblr blog **sammiewritesstuff**, where I'll be happy to answer any question, and eventually post tidbits, updates, and other goodies.


End file.
